Haunted
by j3nnee
Summary: Peter and Neal finish a case involving a dangerous Russian mobster. Now that the case is over, they are both haunted by a strange little man who wants something and is willing to hurt Peter to get it back. Some paranormal themes, little bit of cursing and PG-13 scenes with lots of whumpage.
1. Chapter 1

It was an easy arrest for once as Peter, Neal and the rest of the White Collar department cuffed one of the heads of the local Russian mob, one Dmitri Korsa and the rest of his crew. Neal had gone undercover with the mobsters, fitting in with some help from Mozzie who schooled him in the intricacies of being from that culture. Apparently the little guy had some acquaintances who had formerly been in. Neal was arrested with the rest of them, cuffed by Diana until the rest of the mobsters had been taken away and they were alone. It was better that way than to have one of the gang come after Caffrey later. Peter was tired but relaxed now that the case was over and Neal was no longer in danger.

"I still can't believe you went on that con with the gang, Neal. I told you to stay in the background and not do anything illegal."

He was only slightly angry, concern evident as his partner smirked, rubbing at his wrists once the cuffs were off. Neal was often too cocky for his own good but he was the best at what he did so Peter could only worry so much about his headstrong charge. Neal was Neal... plain and simple.

"It was a test, Peter. If I had found a reason to stay behind it would have been suspicious. I didn't actually steal anything. That was all Dmitri and his gang. Were you worried?"

That smirk had grown but it was all cover, Neal's mask fully in place. The younger man didn't like to show his true emotions but it was obvious despite his false bravado he was touched by the agent's concern. Peter shrugged.

"Maybe... ok, a little but... nevermind. We need to find the ledger you said they had. Show me where Dmitri hid it."

**()()()**

Peter spent the rest of the day looking over the ledger they had found in Dmitri's office at the Bureau, Neal downstairs working on his own accounting of events but currently slouching in his seat doing something other than work. Peter sighed, his eyes going back to the book as he tried to follow the money trail. There was an odd smell to the leathery cover and a strange brand with Cyrillic type branded on the inside at the back of the ledger. Peter would get someone to decrypt that but the rest for now was in English and easily readable although the gangster's handwriting left something to be desired. They had Dmitri on the usual stuff but this little book would also incriminate him with everything from prostitution to drugs if he could find the right pages. His eyes hurt from reading the badly written journal and the monitor of his computer as he searched for more info based on what he was seeing, his throat dry from stale coffee and little else. He could finally relax and forget about the case until the trial. Most of all he could finally put aside the worries he had for Neal's safety.

_That's not yours... Put it back._

The voice was low, almost a hissed whisper as Peter glanced up and found he was still alone. There was a certain hint of accent to the voice but he figured he was tired as he went back to looking at the book, turning the page and finding another entry to flag. It was an open admission, a diary entry really from Dmitri himself on an incident that they were still investigating from another case in _Violent Crimes_. It was something he could pass along to Ruiz once he finished with his own investigation. He rubbed at his temples, squeezing the bridge of his nose as he took another swig of cooling coffee and kept digging. His vision swam slightly before he heard that mystery voice yet again.

_**Return what you have taken!**_

Peter stood up this time, the voice louder as he tried to figure out what kind of hallucination this was. He was still alone, only a few people still in the offices this time of day as they worked on the case against Dmitri. He must be exhausted, his eyes looking at the clock as he saw it was after 7 PM. Nearly 12 hours he'd been working, his head hurting as he put the ledger down and sighed. They could work on this tomorrow as Hughes would say, his boss out for the next few days at a conference. He wiped at his face, Peter pushing the ledger and a few other items into his briefcase to take home and look at further. He grabbed up his jacket, throwing it over his arm as he grabbed his bag and locked the office. Neal was still slouching in his seat, paper cranes cluttering his desk as the agent walked over and coughed, blue eyes looking up with a less than guilty look. He saw redness there, exhaustion and he could only imagine he looked the same as he motioned for the door. Neal was obviously more relaxed, no longer undercover with one of the most dangerous men in the city. They both deserved some long accrued r&r.

"Come on..."

Neal blinked sleepily and nodded back, stifling a yawn as he slipped what looked like a completed report into a manila folder and pushed it under his arm with his jacket, fedora in his hand.

"Elizabeth call you finally? I thought I heard reports of a missing husband in the Brooklyn area."

The consultant smirked, Peter too tired to argue but smiling sarcastically at the joke nonetheless.

"Very funny. No. I just thought we should probably rest and work on this with new eyes tomorrow. Dmitri isn't going anywhere."

Peter watched his partner nod back tiredly with no complaint as they entered the elevator and they both leaned back on the railing waiting for it to reach the lobby. Once the doors opened again, Peter hesitated as Neal exited first then he followed both men quiet due to the exhaustive hours they'd put in for the past 2 weeks. At least for this case, the hard work was done and there would be some rest while doing research into the gangster's ledgers before the next big case. They drove mostly in silence for once, too tired except for very minor chit chat. Mostly the con leaned against the window and seemed to doze off and he let him. Peter dropped Neal off at June's, waving at his partner before heading home. He gave a yawn, glancing in the backseat at his briefcase a moment through the rearview mirror before turning his eyes to the road again.

"I must have been hearing things..."

He was thinking about the voice he heard in the office but he had been close to dozing off at the time. He was still tired as he pulled up to his house and parked along the curb. His eyes looked up into the rearview mirror, a shadow of someone hovering over the briefcase surprising him as he turned and found nobody there. He was tired. That's it... he grabbed up the briefcase as the thought left him and he felt a bit more awake after the false scare. He would nap and then work on the book until bedtime. He opened up the door to find Satchmo running up to greet him and his wife nowhere to be seen.

"El?"

There was no answer as he poked his head into the kitchen, checked the back door which was locked and then went upstairs, briefcase left on the sofa. He glanced into the bedroom but nobody was there, a sigh escaping his lips as he kicked off his shoes, changed into some old sweats and a tee and collapsed on the bed. It suddenly occurred to him his wife had told him she had an event tonight so he was alone. Possibly for the best, Peter thought as he just needed a quick nap and then he'd work for a bit. Maybe his wife would be back home by then. His head slumped against the pillow as he relaxed and fell asleep.

Peter dreamed immediately after he closed his eyes, finding himself back at the residence they'd caught Dmitri at. It was an old brownstone, maybe 100 years old at best with a long history of speakeasies and mobsters in it's past. He was walking through the house, up to the room with the ledger but he was alone or so he thought as he glanced inside the empty safe Neal had showed him.

_Put it back..._

He turned, seeing a shadow in the corner that was either a man or just a trick of light. Peter wasn't sure which as he started to leave but found someone blocking his way, an old shriveled up man glancing up at him from the doorway with dark glittering eyes.

_You have to return what you took. It's not yours..._

The man was looking up at him, glaring darkly with eyes that had no whites. Peter wasn't sure if he was afraid or not, uncertain what he was seeing or why. He tried to leave again but the thing grabbed his arm, pointing at the safe with his other hand without letting go. The agent was still confused as to what the man meant, pulling to free himself when suddenly sharp yellowing teeth sunk into his wrist and he cried out, a feral smile on the old man's face.

_**Give it back or suffer the consequences!**_

Peter backed away, looking for another way out when he found himself suddenly awake, blue eyes hovering over his face. It was Elizabeth, a surprised but happy smile on her face.

"Hey hon... didn't mean to wake you. Long day?"

Her tone was also tired but content, reaching down to kiss him as he fought to overcome the shock of the dream he'd just had. El seemed to notice as she sat beside him and kicked off her heels.

"Are you ok, Peter? You look like you saw a ghost. Is Neal ok?"

Now his wife looked worried as he sat up, hugging her and shaking his head.

"Neal's fine. We finished up the case today other than minor details. Just a long day. How was the event?"

He wanted to change the subject, the dream vague in his mind but still present as fear slowly faded away. El nodded back, talking about the party as she took his hand in hers and gasped.

"Whatever did you do to your wrist?"

El's tone surprised him, making him look down and see what appeared to be a dark red mark, freshly bruising on his right wrist. On first look it appeared to be teeth marks but how... He thought back to the dream but that was all it was. He must have hit himself or something as he glanced at the wound curiously and shrugged.

"No clue. It's been a long day. I probably hit it on something and didn't notice. Doesn't hurt... I promise."

He watched his wife nod, wrapping an arm around him before she stood up and stretched.

"Let me change into something more comfortable and we can eat some of the leftovers I brought back. I'm sure you're hungry."

She winked at him, insinuating more than just food as Peter stood and hugged her, kissing her neck and lips before letting her go freshen up. He should probably walk the dog a bit before bedtime as he let El know what he was up to, going downstairs. Satchmo was laying on his pillow, the yellow lab sleepy but alert as Peter walked in.

"Come on boy. I'm sure you need to go."

Peter had pulled on his jacket and some shoes, putting the leash on Satch before they both left. It was a quick walk down the sidewalk before they turned and headed back. A delicious aroma hit his nose as he entered their home and made his mouth water as he closed and locked the door, releasing the lab from the lead and heading into the kitchen where El was warming something in the microwave. She handed him a cold beer.

"It's almost ready, hon. Did you want to sit at the table or sofa?"

El was wearing yoga pants and a comfy top, her blue apron wrapped around her loosely as she took the food out and started to stir it. He walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist, head on his wife's shoulder as he kissed her again.

"Sofa is fine. We can _snuggle_."

He let his voice drop a bit, El giggling like a girl back at him as she winked and smiled.

"Sounds like a plan, mister."

**()()()**

It was a nice impromptu dinner listening to music in the half light as Satchmo sat quietly in the corner and Peter and El got to relax and talk about their day. Once they were done eating and cleaning up, they headed upstairs again, Peter leaving his briefcase on one of the dining table chairs. He looked at the wound on his wrist briefly, the bruising more obvious since El had first alerted him to its presence. It was an odd mark like a bite but he probably just banged his arm against something he'd forgotten about as he pushed the thought out of his mind and curled up with his wife in bed. The dream he'd had of Dmitri's home and the odd figure was fading away and soon he was asleep with El in his arms.

The night was quiet until El woke him up to the sound of something crashing to the floor and breaking from below. Peter told his wife to stay put as he grabbed his gun and cell, moving downstairs to figure out what was going on. The noise was low now, a growl evident as he figured whomever had broken in had upset Satchmo. There was barking now and the sound of their lab running across the wood floor chasing someone as Peter continued to ease down the stairs and peered around the corner. He was shocked to see the living room was a mess, pictures off the shelves along with books all broken or torn up and the dining room table on its side, his briefcase ripped apart including all the papers. The only thing not messed up was the ledger as he looked around for a suspect and only saw locked doors and windows. Satchmo peeked coyly out of the kitchen after a moment and Peter pushed the cell into his pocket and sighed, an angry look on his face.

"**SATCH! BAD DOG!**"

He saw the signs the dog had possibly done this, chew marks evident on what was broken and paw prints everywhere in the dust. He turned when he heard footsteps and saw El coming down the stairs. He stopped her when he saw her bare feet.

"Be careful hun, there's glass! Satchmo... I don't know what got into him."

He was pissed, putting his gun on the coffee table before he started to clean up, El putting on some house slippers and joining him, her eyes wide at the scene. The dog looked nervous, clinging to her like a frightened child.

"Why... Satch? What happened boy?"

She was crouched near the animal but he looked scared, a growl still low in the lab's throat as if something had frightened him but all signs pointed to this being caused by the dog and not an intruder. Peter was just happy the ledger wasn't damaged but his briefcase was no longer usable, teeth marks and signs of claws having ripped it open obvious. Satchmo didn't do things like this but maybe... well, every animal has a bad day but this was a disaster. They finished cleaning up as best they could, El picking up all the broken frames and books that were still salvageable as Peter took the dog to the cellar and walked it down.

"Hun... what are you doing with Satch?"

El was talking to him but he was still angry, coming back up and bringing the food and water bowls down along with the dog's pillow and some toys.

"He's sleeping down there for the rest of the night. I'll deal with this in the morning. Nothing for him to tear up down there."

Peter wasn't in the mood to be nice, both of them upset by the mess and odd behavior of the dog as the cellar door was shut and locked and they went back upstairs. He couldn't deal with this right now, a slight sting on his right arm as he looked down and saw the bruising was worse. He probably banged it up cleaning all the stuff the dog broke. El was looking at him curiously as they got ready for sleep again. It was 3 AM, too early to get up and too late to be awake.

"Hun... Satchmo was scared of something. Did you think to check... well, maybe he was chasing a mouse or rat? I don't see how..."

She would have said more but he held up a hand, a deep sigh escaping his lips. Satchmo's behavior was much like Neal breaking a rule unexpectedly. Not that he liked comparing his partner to his pet but sometimes the con was a little too impulsive like one.

"I don't want to think about it right now. Rat or not, he wrecked the living room and ate my briefcase. I doubt the rat was in there."

Peter spoke more pointedly than he meant, El giving him a hard look before he reached over and kissed her.

"Sorry hun... sleep on it?"

He watched his wife nod, a look of uncertainty still on her face as they turned off the lights and went back to bed. Peter couldn't sleep though, something about the whole incident bothering him. He had heard Satch growling and running around but something about the sound and what he'd found below didn't seem to match up. He kept thinking about the ledger being the only item not damaged in the area and how most of the broken items were near the dining table. Coincidence he thought as his eyes started to close.

_**Give it back or risk the consequences!**_

The voice was loud, Peter opening his eyes to see dark glittering ones above him. He moved to sit up but something held him down, his neck tight as if someone were choking him. There was a heavy weight on his chest and he struggled silently for breath, his wife sleeping contentedly beside him unaware.

_El?_

_Help me..._

_Can't... breath..._

Peter struggled finally feeling the pressure released as he gave out a low gasp for air and could move again. The heaviness was gone but he felt as if someone had really been trying to strangle him as he got his breath back to normal. His wife was still asleep so Peter didn't wake her. It hadn't really happened, right? It was a vivid nightmare at worse, his mind trying to find a reason behind the odd occurrence. Peter wondered about the dream he'd had earlier in the evening with that old man. It must be the same thing but why was he dreaming of it? It was curious but he had to sleep, leaning over to kiss his wife in the dark, a sleepy murmur from her lips as he hugged her and finally eased back to dreamless slumber. A strange exhaustion hit him as he slept, his face warm and flush as the darkness swallowed him up.

**()()()**

**Author's Note****:** _Uh oh... something's wrong and I don't think it's Satchmo's doing. I wonder whose voice Peter keeps hearing and why. More in the next chapter!_


	2. Chapter 2

**(Chapter 2)**

Elizabeth worried about her husband, Peter acting oddly shocked or at least surprised when she leaned to wake him. Then the odd mark on his arm near his wrist, the reddish purplish mark bringing her concern although Peter was trying to redirect and change the topic. He seemed ok after the initial shock wore off and she figured he was just tired like he said as they had a nice late dinner and then went back to bed. El had woken up initially, hearing the growling and then a crash as she reached over to wake Peter who was already coming to after the noise picked up below. She followed him down when she heard her husband yelling, seeing he was scolding their yellow lab, her eyes scanning the mess in the dining area. Something or someone had tore up the room as if they were angry, the dining table flipped over onto its side along with all the chairs and some items on nearby shelves. The rest of the house seemed fine although she understood Peter's anger at the mess. If Satchmo had done this, he had his eyes on her husband's briefcase which seemed to have been the most damaged item with teeth and claw marks on it. Satchmo was a good dog and had never been violent like this before so it confused her as she tried to comfort their pet who shook and growled in fear more than anger as her hands gently caressed his fur.

After cleaning up for a good hour, Satchmo safely locked up in the cellar, they went back to bed. Peter didn't want to discuss the matter, El seeing the same kind of stubbornness he had with Neal. The con wasn't always the most honest person but he did more good than bad and sometimes her husband didn't see that part when things happened. She had a feeling this wasn't what it appeared to be but with the doors and windows locked up tight and no sign of entry, the only suspect was Satchmo. No rat or mouse would have been able to do the damage to the dining room that she'd seen as El finally gave in to the obvious answer and they went to sleep. Peter apologized for his anger about the situation but she sensed something more behind his words as she fell into an exhausted sleep. El didn't wake up until the alarm came on at 5 AM, rolling over when she didn't hear her husband rouse.

"Hun... Peter... it's time to get up."

She rolled over to hug him, kissing him on the cheek when she felt the clamminess of his skin against her lips. He felt warm closer to his forehead as she sat up in bed and gently felt his face.

"Peter... hun... wake up."

She was worried now, Peter opening his eyes just a little and staring up at her with more than just exhaustion.

"El?"

His voice was raspy and trailed off as she reached over and turned on the lamp, gasping at the paleness of her husband's face and something she didn't expect. El carefully touched his neck, dark marks like the ones on his wrist, bruises glaring angrily back at her. It looked like someone had wrapped thin wiry fingers around her husband's neck. She did her best to rouse him but he barely responded as she reached for his cell and made a quick call.

"Reese... yes, it's Elizabeth. No... Peter can't come in today. He's sick with a cold. Yes... a fever. I have to take him to the doctor. Thank you... I'll let you know when he feels better. Thanks. Bye."

She put the cell back, gently smoothing the hair on Peter's head as he wheezed softly. It was weird how quickly he had become ill when he had been fine last night. El left their bed long enough to find the doctor's number and call. She stared at Peter from the hallway as she spoke on her cell, sighing worriedly as the call ended and she pushed it into the pocket of her fuzzy robe. El went back into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed as she gently smoothed Peter's hair from his face, the warmth of the fever evident before she touched him. She found the thermometer and gently pushed it into his mouth. It beeped and she saw his temp was 102. El rose, going to the bathroom for a clean washcloth, wetting it before she moved back to the bedroom and placed it on her husband's forehead. He seemed to smile, murmuring up at her before falling back into the delirium that kept him from answering her. How could he have become sick so quickly? She turned as the doorbell rang, wondering who would be there that early. Their doctor said he would come by but she had only called him a few minutes ago. It was just after 5:45 now as she wrapped her robe around her and went downstairs.

"I'm coming!"

The doorbell had rung again, El moving to pull the curtain aside and seeing Neal Caffrey peering back. She opened up the door and stared at him quizzically.

"Neal... uhm, what are you doing here?"

The con looked a bit tired, obvious signs of sleeplessness making his usually handsome face seem pale and wan. He was dressed down more so than usual in dark cotton khakis and a warm long sleeve shirt with a casual black denim jacket. She ushered him in feeling the chill from outside as he shuffled in. He stifled a yawn as she locked the door and noticed his eyes glancing around the living room.

"I'm sorry Peter's not up yet. He's in bed with a fever."

She watched him nod at her but he was distracted it seemed by their dining room and the table which looked a bit dented after last night's clean up. She coughed, blue eyes meeting hers as El noticed worry there amid the tiredness.

"So, you guys remodeled?"

He was trying to be light, the always happy Neal conning her into thinking he didn't notice the obvious. El shrugged.

"Satchmo... he knocked over some stuff and woke us up. Peter and I were cleaning up last night... oh, I need to check on him. Satch is in the cellar."

She saw the odd look on his face when she mentioned their dog was in the basement, Neal following her as she went to open up the door and let the lab out. Satch had to be coaxed, the yellow lab still shivering from the night before and looking depressed. Neal motioned for her to go upstairs with Peter and he would take the dog for a walk and feed him. El nodded as she took some hot tea upstairs and checked on her husband, Peter still curled up tightly under the blankets and looking paler than before. It was just after 6 AM now and the doctor would be here soon. The sound of the door downstairs opening and closing seemed to bring Peter back to life for a moment, his brown fever dulled eyes staring at her then at the bedroom door.

"Neal's here. He's walking Satchmo. Any reason why he would be here so early, hun?"

She helped him sit up, Peter leaning back heavily against the pillows as she helped him drink the tea. His pallor was almost grayish, beads of sweat on his brow from the fever as she went to the bathroom and wet the washcloth again, gently wiping his face before putting it back on his forehead.

"_No..._"

He didn't say anything else, obviously in pain from speaking as she noted the raspiness of his voice. Peter was rarely sick and this had hit him suddenly which made it all the more mysterious if not painful to watch. She got him to finish the tea as much as he could, the door downstairs quietly closing again as she heard someone speaking and then another voice. Peter sat up as if he were going to follow but El pushed him back gently, waggling a finger at him.

"Stay. I think Neal and Satchmo might have company downstairs. Let me see if it's Dr. Munroe."

She kissed him as he slumped back with a tired nod, a faint smile on his lips as she left. Her eyes kept looking at the bruising on his neck and the supposed bite on his right wrist. Either Peter wasn't telling her something or she was worrying too much as she pulled her robe around her and went downstairs. Dr. Munroe was standing by the door, Neal crouched down and petting their yellow lab as the two men talked. They both turned and looked up as they heard the creak of the stairs.

"Jacob... Peter's upstairs."

She offered him some coffee as they quickly chit chatted, Neal staying off to the side and for once not being nosey which was unlike him but was for the moment understandable. The fewer questions the better until the doctor had properly examined her husband. Satch was keeping close to her husband's partner, the dog's eyes darting around looking afraid although from what, El didn't know. It was the same look her husband had when she'd been about to wake him up. She took the doctor up to their bedroom, Peter missing from the bed as they looked around.

"Maybe he's in the bathroom..."

El and the doctor went across the hall, the sound of someone moving around inside the bathroom obvious then the sound of running water in the tub. She knocked on the door, opening it when nobody answered. They both looked inside to see Peter laying in the tub with his sweats in the water. El moved closer, checking her husband as Dr. Munroe crouched down and took Peter's pulse. The water was icy.

"His pulse is a little fast."

He paused, feeling the water a moment as they sat Peter up, the agent slumped against the side of the tub.

"This water is pretty cold which is probably why he's here. You said he had a fever of 102? How did he get these bruises?"

El nodded as the doctor pulled out his own thermometer and gently coaxed it into Peter's mouth.

"He woke up with them but we... we had to clean up something last night so maybe he bumped against something. I really don't know."

She watched him nod at her, checking around Peter's neck and feeling where the lymph nodes were. They had shut off the water but El had found another clean washcloth and placed it on her husband's forehead. He was burning up, the thermometer reading 103.5 now. Whatever Peter had caught was making him sicker by the moment. Dr. Munroe sighed, looking at her as he pulled out some aspirin and El brought him a glass of water.

"Slight bit of swelling around his neck... This could be a rash not bruising. It sometimes happens with strep. We need to get him settled into bed. I don't think moving him to the clinic will be necessary. Peter probably caught the strep that's been going around."

He was looking inside Peter's mouth with a small flashlight and giving a nod of affirmation.

"His throat looks irritated... We need to keep him wrapped up. Let's get him dried off and back into bed."

They got Peter into some dry clothes, El bringing up some ice in a small bowl with a wet cloth to put on her husband's forehead. He looked and sounded miserable, Dr. Munroe ministering to the ailing agent as El waited for any other advice.

"I left you some antibiotics, instructions and a prescription for more if it's necessary. Let me know if he gets worse or you start feeling ill. This bug has been spreading around quickly."

The doctor smiled at her, patting El on the shoulder before closing up his bag and walking to the door.

"I'll show myself out, Elizabeth. Just make sure Peter's kept comfortable and call me if his fever or symptoms get worse."

He patted Peter gently on the leg through the blanket before leaving, dull feverish brown eyes watching as the man left before they were left alone. El felt his clammy right hand wrap around hers and she held it tightly, smiling at her ailing husband.

"Poor Peter... did you want something cool for your throat or some more tea? I can make some soup."

She watched him shake his head at her, trying to speak but his voice was raspy when he finally got a few words out.

"_Not... very... hungry, hun. Thanks._"

He smiled at her despite looking pale and sickly as she nodded, hugging him and then moving away towards the door.

"I'll get you something to drink. I'll be right back. Rest..."

**()()()**

Neal was dreaming about his time with Dmitri, glad that the case was over and he could finally drop that facade. It had been hard blending in with the kinds of mobsters who didn't mind a little blood on their hands but it had been necessary to get them off the street. Neal wasn't a fan of violence or bloodshed.

_Marco has 2 pair. Threes... Andre has a full house..._

He blinked, his dream self turning to see a shrunken little old guy to his left whispering quietly to Dmitri. He heard the mobster chuckle slightly, smiling as if nodding at something funny before dropping two cards to the table.

"Hit me, Jacklyn... I feel lucky all of a sudden."

Neal remembered this game clearly but the old man being there was a blank to him. He watched those dark aged eyes looking around the group and suddenly it was beside him like some kind of strange imp. He pulled his cards to the side but the little man moved to look over his shoulder, glaring at him slightly when he couldn't see what was in his hand now. Suddenly the little guy was beside Dmitri again, Neal looking down to find he was missing two cards, aces he had quietly slipped in. He had a garbage hand now with nothing of value.

"I raise the stakes to $500... anyone?"

Dmitri looked proud of himself, two of the men around him folding as did Neal while two more looked confident enough they continued on. He was shocked when the reveal came and he saw his two missing aces in the pile that was the mobster's hand.

"Looks like I win again... Owner rules."

The man's hubris was well known, a wrinkled gnarled hand of the old man patting Dmitri on the shoulder as if to say: _well done_.

"Looks like your little friend helped, Dmitri."

Neal made the comment, the rest of the group smirking quietly as the mobster nodded.

"Lady luck is a friend of mine indeed, Nicholaus... For one so pretty, I'm surprised she does not flirt with you."

That brought a smirk to the yellow teethed old man, dark eyes glittering in his direction briefly before going back to looking at Dmitri as if he were the sun. Nobody else seemed to notice the old man as they stood and left the table. They all moved to the bar, Jacklyn playing bartender now as the pretty brunette poured them all their favorite poison. Dmitri was distracted as Neal excused himself to the bathroom but snuck into the back room where the vault was. He couldn't get the book now but he needed to know exactly where things were to tell Peter.

"_Master's room. He has the best of everything..._"

The voice made him jump, dream or not and he turned to see the little old man standing there expectedly. Neal hadn't heard him enter the room, nodding as he tried to act innocent.

"Yes, he does."

He started to exit the room as casually as he could but a wrinkled gnarled hand wrapped around his wrist and made him turn. Those dark glittering eyes seemed to plead with him but in a less than friendly manner.

"_Your friend must give back what he stole. It's the only way..._"

Neal didn't understand what the old man was saying at first, thin fingers much stronger than they looked as he felt the grip tightening. The con nodded back, the hand letting slowly go as he left the room and found himself standing in another room suddenly. There was a certain pall in the air as he tried to figure out what was going on.

"He was... fine yesterday. I don't understand how he could get sick so suddenly. Neal?"

El stood beside him, her face covered in a black veil and her dress matching the gloomy color as she leaned on his shoulder and cried. The dream had changed to a new place, the Burkes' living room obviously but instead of the usual dining table there was a huge coffin in the middle of the room. El pulled away from him as he moved closer, uncertain why he felt drawn to the oblong box. He could see the coffin was open on one end, someone laying inside.

"It was so sudden..."

El was talking but he had the feeling the meaning went far beyond the words she spoke in the dream as he moved closer and peered inside the box. It was a nice polished walnut with small oak leaves decorating the sides and a shiny badge glittering on top as he realized who he was looking at. Neal backed away, afraid of what he was seeing as fear washed over him.

_No... Peter. He's not..._

He heard the words slip from his lips before he noticed something strange laying on his friend's chest. It was a small leather ledger, worn and old but he knew it from somewhere. His mind noted the oddness of the object but the terror of the dream woke him before he could wrap his thoughts around it. He sat up, shaking from the idea of the nightmare. A cold sweat covered him as he sat up and rolled out of bed, too awake to go back to sleep. It was nearly 5 AM, too early to call Peter but he had to talk to his friend, something about the dream bothering him. It had felt too real although he really didn't believe in signs or omens. Mozzie would tell him something ominous about its meaning but he just had to be sure that Peter was ok. Maybe if he just showed up? He knew when the Burkes got up. He could hang around outside until he saw their lights come on... what harm would that do? Neal just needed to know they were ok as he quietly dressed, pulling on his jacket and exited to the street. June was gone for the week so he had the place to himself except for the occasional housekeeper visit and Mozzie. He hailed a cab and gave the address to Peter's as he leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. All he could see was Peter's pale form in the coffin and that ledger laying on his chest under crossed arms. He quickly opened his eyes and realized he'd fallen asleep for a moment, sitting up as the cabbie slowed and pulled up to the Burke home. The memory of the dream was odd but all he could think of was to walk the block but that would be suspicious as he stood there. It was 5:25 AM now. Maybe... No, he walked down the street to a nearby cafe and glanced in the window but he was neither hungry or craving coffee as he stood outside as casually as he could. Finally he glanced down at his watch. 5:35 AM. If he started back maybe...

Elizabeth seemed surprised by his visit but more so distracted. He immediately noticed the missing items off the dining room table, new dents on it as if someone had tossed it around as well as other little items of interest in their home that were moved. He was surprised to find out that Satchmo had torn up the room much more that the dog had been locked in the basement by Peter because of that. It wasn't like his partner to be so severe and he should be one to know, the irony of the situation not missed by his keen but sleepy mind. He offered to walk the dog as El ministered to Peter who apparently was upstairs in bed sick. He thought back to his dream and shook his head as he put the lead on Satch and they went walking around the block again. The dog seemed less than happy as the lab quickly did his business and they were heading back home earlier than normal. A familiar face was standing outside, exiting a cab as Neal approached.

"Dr. Munroe... You're here to see Peter?"

The man nodded at his query, the two chatting briefly as they went inside and the doctor vanished upstairs with El. He sat quietly on the sofa not wanting to bother anyone as he gently scratched Satch behind the ears, a low whimper coming out of the dog's muzzle making him look down. There were small scratches and a hint of a bite on the dog's ears and around his neck. They looked like the lab had been in a fight with something but it was light enough it hadn't been noticeable from far away.

"Hey boy... when did you get these? Huh?"

Neal was answered by another low whimper, the dog's eyes moving to stare across the room at the dining table. Neal noticed Peter's briefcase or what was left of it on the floor while something else sat up on the table. It looked to be a small book or journal as he stood and went to examine it. Slowly recognition hit him as he realize it was the ledger they'd taken from Dmitri's, the old man's words in his dream coming back to him. A cold shiver went up and down his spine and the feeling someone was watching him made Neal look around but only Satchmo was there. The dog was growling slightly but stayed by the sofa, that frightened look in his eyes. He gazed down at the ledger again before the sound of footsteps on the stairs made him turn around. El walked past him to the kitchen, her manner worried as she went to get something and left again for upstairs. Their eyes met a moment but that was it before she was gone and he went back to sit with Satch. It was 30 minutes later that Dr. Munroe came downstairs, smiled at him and they said some brief goodbyes before the man left and Neal stared upwards. It was too quiet for his liking as he took a chance and went upstairs.

"Neal?"

El's voice caught him by surprise as she quietly closed the door to their bedroom and walked towards him. He felt a bit guilty skulking around but the dream he'd had and finding out Peter was ill were too much of a coincidence for him. He put on his best face, hiding the fact he was spying to see how his friend was as El smiled back tiredly and pointed downstairs.

"Help me with breakfast. I need to take some food up to him and you look like you could use some coffee."

Neal let her lead him away from the room, her arm around his shoulders as they headed downstairs. He finally gained the courage to speak, having been doing his best imitation of not being curious he could.

"How is he?"

It was all he could think to say, an honest response in his sleepy state as El sat him down at the dining table and walked over to the kitchen counter. She started the coffee pot then a kettle with some hot water on the stove which was obviously for Peter before pulling out a can of soup from the cabinet. Neal stood up and went to help, working on the coffee as she leaned back on the kitchen island and sighed worriedly.

"Sick. He's not very good at it either. He just... Peter looks so pallid for something like strep. Doctor said it was something going around but he was well just a few days ago and last night."

She paused, stirring the soup a moment before leaning back again, her dark hair a messy bun on her head as Neal listened. El was obviously worried and he was too after the nightmare he'd had. He'd only had one other dream that had come true and the less he thought about it the better.

"Jacob also said it was contagious. You should probably go home if you're going to make it to work."

She pulled out two cups, handing one to him as the coffee maker beeped and started to fill the glass pitcher below. The kettle whistled a few minutes after as he watched El put a tea bag into the cup and fill it with hot water. He should probably go but his worry for El and Peter both kept him from leaving.

"I already did my report for the case. I was going to be helping Peter with the ledger. I can stay here and work on it..."

His voice trailed off hopefully, El smiling at him as if to say _thank you_.

"That would be nice. I'll have to call Yvonne and tell her I won't be going in today. Nothing major on my calendar thankfully."

They were quiet after that, Neal sipping his coffee as she filled a bowl with hot soup, added some crackers, the tea cup and put them on a tray. He watched how careful she was to make everything perfect even for something as simple as food for Peter, not that he didn't think his friend appreciated El's efforts but that was just the way she was. Neal remembered when he was hung over from the Hauser Clinic case. He had been glad to have El on his side and nursing his headache.

"I'll be right back. Keep an eye on Satch..."

He stayed behind as she left him in the kitchen sipping coffee. Neal felt useless, looking up at the clock and saw it was almost time for them to be at work. Peter was already out sick. A thought popped into his head. He called in and got the dispatcher. The call was routed to Diana who listened and finally agreed to let him off the hook since Peter was home sick. They were mostly doing paperwork so unless Peter said something and he wasn't being home as he was, Neal was free for the day. He hung up, eyes glancing over at the ledger still on the dining table beckoning to him as he walked over and sat down to read it. It was the usual stuff, things he had found out in the days he was undercover with Dmitri. The only thing that bothered him was an oddly branded image on the leather cover he found in the back of the book and words written in Russian over it, the only ones not in English. He knew a few words but wasn't able to read Cyrillic letters but he knew someone who did, Neal pulling out his cell phone.

"_The party you are currently calling is not available. Please call at a less inconvenient time of day. Thank you._"

Neal waited, a hint of breathing on the other end soft enough most people would think it was static on the line.

"I guess I'll have to drink that new wine by myself..."

He murmured it as if he thought the message were real, the breathing more obvious now and a cough as someone answered.

"_The party might be available for a taste testing if said party was told where to meet the other party._"

Neal fought back the chuckle growing in his throat as he answered back.

"Mozz... If I send you a copy of something do you think your friend Anton could translate it for me?"

There was silence again and then finally a dejected sigh as his friend answered.

"_Maybe. Does this have to do with that job you're working on? He doesn't deal with mobsters. Bad for his constitution. I'm guessing this means there is no new wine?_"

Leave it to Mozzie to be a one track mind but Neal did have something he'd been hiding. If it helped the case he would share.

"It does but to what degree I'm not certain. Just let me know what it says and there may be something sweet and red in your future."

He took a quick shot of the image and words, sending it by text. Mozzie made a thoughtful sound.

"_Curious drawing. Reminds me of something Anton told me once. Old Ukrainian folk tale. I'll get back with you... and the red._"

The call ended, Neal hanging up as he gave the weird image another look. It bothered him because the illustration was that of a shriveled up old man with dark beady eyes like the one in his nightmare. This could not be chalked up to coincidence he thought as he closed the book and replaced it on the dining table.

**()()()**

Peter was miserable, eating as much as he could of the soup and tea his wife brought but he really had no appetite or thirst which was odd. He'd had strep once before and craved cold and hot drinks but this time was different and he didn't know why, eyes looking at the bite / rash on his arm. It looked more blotchy he thought or maybe it was just his feverish mind hallucinating.

_Give it back..._

The voice spoke in the back of his thoughts when he was alone as he tried to rest, keeping him from sleeping. At some point he knew he would have to give in but he didn't know what the thing wanted from him or why. The fever made him think maybe this was real but how could a nightmare be real?

"I don't know... what you mean. Tell me what... you mean."

He fell into a coughing fit, rolling over as he curled up under the blankets for warmth for his freezing body but still sweating heavily from the fever wracking his body. He opened his eyes and saw him there, the old man staring at him with those dark beady eyes and yellowed teeth. It couldn't grab his arms or anything else because he was curled up under the covers but he didn't think that's why it was giving him such an evil look or hovering nearby as if it wanted to pounce.

_Give back his things so I can care for them while he is gone._

Peter smelled the man's putrid breath which was like something decaying as he shrunk back under the covers and tried to hide. A claw-like hand seemed to scrape across the top of the covers as he lay beneath, too frightened to move. Peter wanted to scream but his throat was sore and he could hardly keep his eyes open he was tired from the fever.

"Leave me alone..."

His voice was raspy and weak as he spoke, muffled some by the blanket but the little man's voice echoed around him.

_Give it back... Give it back..._

Peter felt one hand turn into a fist as he readied himself with his remaining strength to hit the thing in the face. He felt it sit beside him on the bed, a hand laying lightly across the top of his left shoulder. Suddenly he sat up, bursting it seemed from the blankets and surprising someone he didn't expect to see.

"It's just me Peter!"

Neal Caffrey was on the floor, rubbing at his shoulder as Peter realized his mistake. There was no sign of the little old man any more as he slumped back against the pillows, staring at the surprise in his partner's face.

"If you didn't want me to visit, you should have said so."

Neal was trying to be funny but there was obvious concern as both started to calm down from the odd episode and Peter wheezed out a reply.

"Sorry. Thought... nevermind. What are you doing here? I thought... you'd would have... been at... work."

He coughed afterwards, reaching over for a glass of water his wife left. Neal stood up, brushing off his pants but still rubbing at his arm where the agent had hit him as he sat back on the edge of the bed again.

"I called in. Said I was _nursing_ you back to health... and El wanted company. She's worried about you."

Neal was telling him the truth but there was more to it he felt, something else the young man wasn't telling him as he let it slide and closed his eyes as he nodded back.

"Fine... I know your report is done. I'm... still working... on the... ledger."

Talking was an effort, his throat sore and tight. He still felt the hint of those hands he'd dreamed of choking him last night along with the pain of his wrist. He gave a wince as he moved, body aching from the fever a hand gently touching his forehead.

"You're burning up, Peter! I'm surprised Dr. Munroe didn't take you to the hospital. El's taking a nap on the couch downstairs and Satch is with her. They're both ok. She told me what happened."

Peter realized that Neal knew about Satchmo wrecking the living room, a frown curving his lips downward. His partner watched him, blue eyes obviously still finding a way to say whatever he was holding back.

"Spit it out, Neal. I can see you're... hiding... something."

He sounded testy even to himself but Neal didn't blink, no guilty expression there but one that made his partner look like a hurt teen. Those blue eyes seemed a little uncertain for a moment before Neal stood and walked around the room, a thoughtful look on his face.

"I... couldn't sleep and thought I'd come see if you were up. That's all."

The con left it at that and Peter realized maybe it was something else bothering Neal than guilty thoughts. There had been too much loss in the young man's life lately and right now all Neal had was himself and El to talk to when he did talk to them. His cheeks flushed not just from fever but also maybe from a combination of that and shame. El always accused him of thinking the worse first but Neal was if anything straightforward when it was necessary. He patted the edge of the bed, leaning back tiredly as he closed his eyes. He felt rather than heard Neal sit back on the bed again as he felt himself drifting off.

"Stay if you want. I need to rest."

He wasn't angry or accusing but his voice was less than happy from the fever and the nightmares he was having. This case had made him one large bundle of nerves worrying about his partner and now that it finally ended, Neal was worrying about him. It was a change if nothing else. Having Neal nearby was a small comfort as if family were there. El wouldn't be alone... Someone could walk Satchmo. His thoughts were scattered, exhausted from the heat and cold that wracked his body when he heard that voice again.

_Give it back, thief. You haven't much longer..._

He was back at the house of Dmitri's; the brownstone in that bedroom with the safe. The old man, shrunken and withered was there staring up with those pure black eyes at him. There was no soul in those eyes just a cold emptiness.

"You're just a part of the fever. You're not real."

Peter looked around, the room just as he remembered it from the other day. The safe was empty, the only thing obvious other than the odd little man. Those dark eyes burned a gaze into him and he felt it, taking a few steps back in response.

_I am more than just a nightmare, Agent Burke. Trust me..._

**()()()**

**Author's Note****:** _Who is the weird little man haunting Peter and Neal both? What does this have to do with their case? Read more to find out!_


	3. Chapter 3

**(Chapter 3)**

El and Neal had a nice dinner although they took turns checking on Peter throughout the day. His fever remained a steady 103.5 as he came in and out of sleepiness to eat now and again but mostly he slept. Dr. Munroe said this was normal but to call him the next day if the fever hadn't gone down. Elizabeth seemed more worried than usual as Neal did his best to distract her and help with some of her catering work. She had him tasting samples of cake and pastry that Yvonne brought in for them. He felt a bit guilty not telling Peter about the nightmare but it felt silly to him now that he really thought about it. The old man was just some odd configuration of something to do with the case. That had to be it. He felt his cell buzz in his pocket around then, pulling it out and seeing it was Mozzie.

"Hey Mozz..."

Neal saw El perk up, smiling at him as she walked over to the kitchen for more samples and something to drink. They were happily fuzzy on red and white wine, also being sampled for an event as he waited for a reply.

"_How is the Suit? You still with them or can I come over to your place and talk?_"

Mozzie sounded anxious which meant he had news. Neal looked at El who was busy looking in the cabinets for something as he replied.

"I'm helping El with some sampling. _I can meet you later._"

He kept his voice low, blinking when the doorbell chimed. El turned to look at him and he nodded as he stood and went to answer it for her. It was probably something from work or Yvonne. She had promised to bring some more samples and other items by for Elizabeth.

"I need to answer the door. Call me... later. Mozz?"

Neal was surprised when he opened up the door and his friend stood there, cell to his ear. The little guy looked a bit rumpled but no more so than usual. His tan messenger bag was slung across his body and the con held on to the straps like it was his life. Neal had barely greeted him when El popped her head around the corner and smiled.

"Hey Mozz... come in. I could always use another sampler."

She was smiling, Neal moving aside to let his friend in as they closed the door and made their way back to the dining table. El had set out a whole new set of plates along with more wine.

"Sit. I'm trying out some new sweets for an event and wines. Give me your honest opinion."

El smiled at them, glancing at the clock and then upstairs as they made themselves comfy.

"Let me check on Peter and I'll be right back."

She left them, taking a small tray of tea and soup up with her. Neal watched with a concerned look as the little guy sat nearby. Once El was out of earshot he started talking.

"I'm guessing the Suit isn't doing so good? She doesn't look happy... nor do you."

Mozzie was perceptive as usual and a bit too honest but Neal nodded back, stretching some as he stood and walked over to the kitchen for a glass of water. Mozz was already sipping wine, pouring himself more as Neal sat back down.

"No he's not. Peter looks pretty bad but it might just be the illness. What did you find out?"

He was pretty sure Mozzie was here about the ledger image he had sent him. He glanced up at the clock to see it was past 4 PM. He'd been here all day, taking turns watching over Peter. He had napped very little but instead let El have that pleasure. He would go upstairs and watch his friend when he could, the agent looking worse than any strep throat he'd known about.

"Anton didn't say very much. Infact... not sure what it says _yet_ but I'm guessing it isn't good. He threw me out of his home and said not to come back after spitting three times over his left shoulder. I'm pretty sure that's a sign it was something bad."

Mozzie looked if anything as nonplussed as he normally did despite the odd actions of his Russian friend. Neal found it interesting as well his mind thinking back to the odd nightmare.

"Neal, what's going on? Peter's just sick, right?"

The con looked worried about the Suit despite his normal protestations about working with the law. Neal nodded but he was uncertain what to say or think as he glanced back at the ledger on the table. Satchmo sat in his corner quiet and so not like the usual happy dog they all knew. Whatever had happened last night had unnerved the Burke household and Neal had to find out who or what had done this.

"It's just strep throat. Doctor didn't seem worried."

He saw Mozzie blanche at the illness, taking out wipes to wash his hands and a face mask like you see in hospitals. Neal sighed, trying to calm his friend down.

"Keep digging into that translation for me. I need to know what it says. I have a feeling it's important."

Mozzie nodded back to him, heading for the door, his voice muffled by the hospital mask.

"_Strep_ isn't something to laugh at, Neal. Call me when this place has been sanitized. I'll... I'll call you if I find anything."

**()()()**

Neal finally went home around 10PM, Peter's fever going down to 101 and Elizabeth looking happy about it. He still hadn't told them about the nightmare but it really didn't matter. It was just a bad dream, nothing more. He was relieved that he had helped El and seen Peter. He worried about his friend's illness but was happy to know he just had a bad cold rather than what his dream had shown. He barely took a quick shower before putting on his pajama pants and crashing. Immediately he heard a voice in his dreams.

_He has to give it back. His death is in your hands if he doesn't._

The con twitched in his sleep as the voice whispered in his ear in the darkness. It was a raspy rattle like something dark from his nightmares was talking to him. He opened his eyes slowly, uncertain if he was dreaming or awake when he saw two dark shiny ones staring back at him. Neal started, watching the shrunken old man he'd seen in his nightmare perched near him on the bed frame near his feet. He hadn't felt any weight where the man sat almost birdlike. He wiped at his face and eyes but the man was still there plain as day in the darkness, a gnarled crooked silhouette staring back at him curiously.

"How... did you get in here? Who are you?"

If this was a dream, it was a very vivid one as Neal tried to figure out what was going on. The strange old man smiled back with yellowed teeth that glittered slightly under the dim light of the skylight above.

_You are my master's friend are you not? He said you were. You did not harm him but your friend... he took something I was to protect._

The voice was straightforward and direct, no lies there but a hint of annoyance was obvious. Finally the creature moved closer, Neal trapped a moment as it settled next to him on the bed, no weight obvious but there was a coldness emanating from the creature that made him shiver.

"The ledger? Is that what you want?"

Neal suddenly realized what was going on although this dream or hallucination still felt far too real for his liking as the man smiled darkly back at him.

_Yes. He must return it or face further... complications. Nothing must be removed that was marked by my master for me to protect._

The word marked seemed a clue from the creature as Neal nodded back blankly, shock at seeing this thing up close making him less vocal than he normally would be. The creature smiled again, moving backwards and slowly disappeared into the shadows. Neal was frozen in fear a moment as he watched those dark eyes glittering from the gloom then vanish, his hand reaching for the light but the thing was gone by the time he turned it on. He glanced around the room, checked all the doors and windows but there was nothing to show where or how it had entered or left. He had work today but again, another nightmare had kept him from sleeping. It was just after 1AM now as he moved over to the kitchenette to get something to drink. He felt his cell buzzing as he grabbed a glass of water and moved to answer it. It was Elizabeth Burke calling.

**()()()**

Neal was at the hospital within 15 minutes uncertain what was going on as he glanced around the waiting room and found a nurse.

"I'm looking for Peter Burke's room."

El had been near hysterical, not like her at all when she'd called and said she was at the hospital with Peter. His fever had remained steady but then he'd begun to convulse and she had called an ambulance and their doctor to get him settled. He thought back to his nightmares and the odd little man. This felt like something out of a terrible dream but he was awake and Peter was hurting. Why did he feel so guilty when he had nothing to do with this?

"Are you friend or family?"

The nurse was waiting for him to reply when someone touched his arm and spoke.

"Family... Neal, I'm glad you were able to come. Dr. Munroe is looking at him now."

Elizabeth was standing near him, one arm wrapped around his as she nodded at the nurse who smiled pertly before they left. El seemed anxious despite trying to act like she wasn't as they walked down the hallway and headed for the elevators.

"How is he? Much more... how are you?"

Neal gave her a small hug and she smiled up at him tiredly, shrugging back.

"I don't know... Tired. He was fine and now... They seem stumped by his symptoms. I'm sorry if I woke you up but I didn't know who else to call."

She was exhausted, the usually happy person he knew El to be wanting to relax but unable to with Peter being so uncharacteristically ill. He kept an arm around her as they exited the elevator and she led them to what looked to be ICU. He thought about the weird yet realistic nightmare with the impish man, a cold chill washing over him as he tried to relax for his friends' sake. Dr. Munroe was out in the hallway talking to some other staff in white coats and blue scrubs, turning to nod at them before motioning them over.

"Mrs. Burke... Mr. Caffrey. He's sleeping right now but we had to put him on a respirator for the meantime until we figure out exactly what's going on. He's on an IV drip with antibiotics. I suspect he may have a secondary infection due to the strep but we're still running labs. You can go in and see him."

The doctor handed them both gloves, a coverall for their clothes and a mask. They were afraid germs might make Peter's condition worse so they were being careful. El went inside first, Neal watching from the wings as Dr. Munroe accompanied her and the two spoke. For a usually not so sick man, Peter was looking pale and wan, something Neal wasn't used to seeing.

_You can fix this..._

He turned, the voice faded by now as he tried to see who spoke but only staff and orderlies walked by. None of them would have said that to him plus he recognized the voice as that of the decrepit old man from his nightmares. That cold chill came back and he fought to push it aside as he concentrated on Peter and El. They needed him.

**()()()**

Diana called Neal later in the morning asking why he wasn't at work. He had forgotten about everything else as he dozed off and on in the waiting room outside ICU while El visited with Peter. He had gone in briefly but mostly he had worried about why this was happening. It was too sudden for a mere cold. After explaining what was going on, Diana approved his being off for the time being, their caseload light but she wanted him to bring in his report from the case they'd been working on concerning Korsa. Neal agreed to do that later in the day and promised to let her and Jones know how Peter was.

"Neal?"

He glanced up to see El standing there, two cups of coffee in hand and something in a bag that smelled like buttered croissants. Neal took one of the coffees as she handed it to him and she sat in the adjoining seat. El looked exhausted considering it had only been 24 hours since Peter had gotten sick. He was all too happy to be included in keeping her sane during this time, his sanity in question as he worried about his partner and friend and the relationship between the ledger and this sudden illness.

"Diana called. I forgot about work but she said I could stay here if that's ok with you?"

Neal hoped he wasn't being a nuisance, his worry for his friends making him vulnerable but in this instance he didn't care. El gave his arm a little squeeze, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course you can stay. Thank you, Neal. Besides, when did you ever listen to me... or Peter?"

She smirked slightly, some humor in her still despite her obvious worry and exhaustion. They both looked over at the sleeping Peter, his body hidden behind tubing and white sheets in a sterile room full of machine helping him stay alive. This wasn't his fault but Neal thought about the dream and what the old man had said. He jumped slightly when his phone buzzed, excusing himself as he took it down the hall.

"_Can you meet me at the coffee place near June's? I might have something for you._"

Mozzie sounded excited, Neal nodding back with a stretch and yawn before answering.

"Sure. Let me go home and get cleaned up first."

He wiped tiredly at his face, stifling a yawn as he looked back at El slumped and tired in the waiting room. He didn't want to leave her alone but for now Peter was safe in the hospital under scrutiny. A few minutes away might help him figure things out about the nightmares and what they had to do if anything with his partner's illness.

"_Where are you, Neal? You're not still at the Suit's house are you?_"

Mozzie didn't sound very concerned but that was the way he was with most people. Neal didn't want to alarm him so he didn't say much.

"No... I'll see you at the diner. Noon. Bye, Mozz."

He hung up before his irritation could show, exhaustion making him testy about everything as he worried about Peter. He walked back over to El who had partially dozed off, coffee cup gingerly held in her lap. He took the cup from her hands and she woke up, staring up at him sleepily.

"Sorry, I must have dozed off. How is Mozzie?"

El always knew as did Peter when his friend called, a smirk curving his lips slightly at that revelation. He shrugged.

"The same. He wants to meet. I'll be back afterwards to see how Peter is. Call me if you need anything."

Neal was trying his best to be a good friend and reliable, El smiling up at him as she stood and hugged him slightly.

"I'm good for now. Thank you, Neal. I'll let you know if his condition changes."

**()()()**

Lunch with Mozzie was as always _interesting_. His friend was one complex short of clinical OCD and Aspergers if he had to classify how particular the con man was. It made no difference in their friendship though and the annoyance was minor at best.

"You look awful. No sleep again?"

Mozzie was blunt as usual, Neal biting back a scathing reply as he nodded.

"Yeah... Long story. I'm guessing this is about the ledger inscription I showed you?"

Neal hoped this would shed some light on the situation with Peter but Mozzie shrugged, paling slightly.

"I know you laugh at me when I talk about Hitler clones, Neal. Maybe that's not exactly real but there are things stranger that might be. Anton had an answer for me but it wasn't one I was expecting."

The little guy was pussyfooting around the answer but finally after a glare he spit out what he was trying to avoid saying.

"Have you ever heard of the _domovoi_? Russian folklore says they were keepers of the treasures and houses their masters held. That's what the branded text in the back of the ledger referenced. It was a curse and a warning not to take the book from the house or suffer the _wrath_ of the _domovoi_."

Mozzie said the last bit with an overly dramatic ominous tone that made Neal blink. It wasn't like his friend to believe in spirits even if he did tend to believe in other such oddities like UFOs and clones from the Third Reich. He wiped tiredly at his face, drinking from his cooling coffee cup before he replied.

"Domovoi? I've never heard of the term. I didn't take Dmitri as the superstitious type but he did say the word once or twice now that I think about it during card games. Said he had the '_luck of a domovoi_' guiding him. I thought it was just a figure of speech like _lady luck_."

He was wrapping his mind around the idea of what Mozzie was telling him when his friend pulled something out and showed it to him. It was a printout with a drawing like the one in the back of the book. It looked to be a sign or wooden post at the entrance of a home. The con pointed at the figure.

"_Domovoi_ are thought to be old decrepit men with lots of hair. I guess you could compare them to _Dobby_ on _Harry Potter_ if you had to really put a face on it. What? I was curious and watched the movie with Samantha once when June needed a uhm babysitter."

Mozzie had gotten slightly defensive as Neal smiled thinking of his friend watching _Harry Potter _with Sam. Still, his thoughts returned to the image of Dobby and what he knew of that version of a house spirit and the old man from his nightmares. It made little sense that something of that nature would be real. He didn't believe in curses or ghosts.

"I don't think such things exist but thanks for the information, Mozz."

He gave a deep sigh, frustrated that the text wasn't more than a random set of words and nothing more. Curses meant nothing to him, but a reason for his nightmares and knowing why Peter was sick did. Mozzie coughed, drawing his attention back.

"So you haven't slept and you were with the Suits all night I'm guessing. How is Peter?"

Mozzie said it rather nonchalantly although he was fond of El. Neal realized he still hadn't told his friend what happened.

"He's in the hospital. El's been there all night with him... I was there up until you called. Peter's strep turned into something worse. He's in ICU until they figure out what's causing it."

He felt drained suddenly, the lack of sleep and worry for his partner and friend finally wearing him down. Mozzie paled, a worried look on his face.

"Why didn't you tell me before? I'm surprised you and El haven't come down with the same thing, Neal. You're not contagious are you?"

His paranoia sparkled through but Neal ignored it, standing up and moving out of the diner booth, turning back briefly as he grabbed up his jacket.

"I need to head back to the hospital and see how Peter is. I promised Elizabeth I'd be back after lunch. Thanks for looking that up for me. I appreciate it. Just wish it had meant more..."

He gave a yawn, trying hard to stay on his feet as he headed out the door, an arm stopping him at the edge of the stoop. Mozzie was keeping a firm grip on his arm as Neal felt the world sway a bit. His eyes felt heavy.

"I'll call El and tell her you need to sleep. You're in no condition to keep her company. Come on..."

Neal nodded back, letting his friend lead him to a cab. In a few minutes they were back at June's, heading upstairs with some effort as Mozz kept him upright. Finally Neal was in his room, sitting on the edge of his bed, eyes partially open. He slumped back onto the bed, kicking off his shoes and curling up fully clothed on top of the covers. He could hear Mozzie muttering to himself, the beep of a cell and his friend's voice as he walked away down the hallway talking. He fell asleep immediately after that, finding himself dreaming of his room at Dmitri's house. The little old man was there at the foot of the bed staring at him with those coal black eyes.

_You don't believe that I am real. That is the shame that will cause your friend to waste away._

The decrepit figure smirked back at him, pointing at a spot Neal turned to see and found he was in the Burke house now. He was sitting on their sofa but the little man was pointing back at the dining table where the ledger sat.

_That is what I require. Bring it back to me and your friend will live._

The man smiled at him coldly, dark eyes glittering as he moved away from the sofa and the scene changed again. Neal was in the hospital now, glancing around at the oddness of being there when he knew he was dreaming.

_Your friend has fought for your life and here he is wasting away. What will you do for him?_

Those dark eyes blinked back at him, Neal turning to see they were now in the hallway of the hospital with Peter's room at the end. He started walking that way, forgetting about the _Domovoi_. Neal just wanted to see that Peter was well again, stepping into the waiting room to see a tired Elizabeth slumped in the chair by Peter's side through the glass in ICU. She was holding the agent's hand in hers, head laying on his chest as she rested. There were streaks of tears on her cheek as he watched unseen.

_Neal?_

He turned to see Peter standing there beside him, faded and see through with a confused look on his face. Neal didn't know what to think as he reached out for his friend, brown eyes looking past him at the two figures in the glass room. He was about to say something more when he found himself staring up at the skylight above his bed. He was awake, sitting up with a start and realizing it was later in the day than before. The clock read 6 PM when he checked it, panic still obvious as he thought back to the nightmare. At least now he had a reason for everything: _Dmitri's ledger_.

"About time, sleeping beauty. I was about to call in _princess charming_ if you didn't wake up soon."

Mozzie was his usual sarcastic self but he must have sensed Neal's terror from the nightmare, frowning slightly.

"Guessing it wasn't a good sleep by the look on your face."

His friend was honest as always but Neal didn't take it the wrong way, nodding as he wiped tiredly at his face and leaned back, taking a moment to wake up.

"No and... I should probably go look in on Peter. See if El needs anything."

Neal wanted to check on his friends, Mozzie nodding as he packed up his own things as if he might follow.

"I'll go with you... for support. El said she would be home later to clean up before going back for the evening. I told her we could do that for her. Check on Satchmo."

Mozzie was being more helpful than usual but he knew he cared for Burkes even if he didn't admit it. Neal nodded, remembering that El had given him a key just in case at the hospital. He slipped on his shoes, pulled on his jacket and straightened himself up in the mirror as they headed out. Maybe they could pick up some food for them and El along the way as they headed out. Mozzie was right behind him only pausing when he did.

_You're running out of time..._

Neal blinked, uncertain if he really heard the voice as he glanced around only to get a questioning look from Mozzie. He hadn't told him about his dreams yet and he didn't intend to until he knew what was going on.

"Let's go by Peter's, then pick up some food. We should check that Satchmo is ok."

Neal's voice sounded oddly off to himself and he saw the strange look he was getting from Mozzie as they exited June's and hailed a cab. The dream had to be a symbol for something else, right? Neal wasn't sure what to think but for now he could just work on helping Peter and El and hopefully getting answers to why this ledger haunted both himself and his partner.

**()()()**

**Author's Note****:** _This is getting weirder by the moment but at least Neal has a reason why. Will Mozzie's information be helpful in curing what ails Peter or is this all just some weird hallucination?_


	4. Chapter 4

**(Chapter 4)**

The ledger still sat on the dining table where he'd seen it before. Neal pocketed the book before Mozzie could see it as they took Satchmo for a walk, watered and fed him. Afterwards they ordered some take out from down the street, picking it up on the way to the hospital. El looked happy if not sleepy when she greeted them, a smile on her face.

"Neal... Mozzie, thanks for taking care of things. Peter's still unconscious. The doctors aren't sure what he has but they're thinking possibly some kind of meningitis now."

She looked ready to cry, Mozzie letting her hug him despite his usual shying away from touching muchless hugging and sentimentality. Once they had calmed down a bit and taken turns visiting Peter, they started on the food. El picked at hers as did Neal with Mozzie being the only one who seemed to have an appetite.

"I don't think I've slept much the whole time I've been here. Dr. Munroe keeps telling me to go home but I told him I'm fine. Peter needs me here."

El sounded more worried than he liked, Neal giving an inward sigh as he thought about why his friend might be hurting. He excused himself after a while, finding a quiet spot to look at the journal and the _evil_ looking brand in the back. That burnt figure and words seemed to fill him with a cold chill as he pushed the book back into his pocket, going for a short walk through the hospital when he found a visitors area with a copy machine. They only needed the pages inside the book and not the actual ledger... right? He thought about it a moment before he finally came to a decision. If it meant Peter was better, he would put the book back despite his better judgment and just keep a copy for their case. Peter would understand.

**()()()**

Neal went in early the next morning to work, tired by the time Diana and Jones showed up, the two agents looking at him curiously.

"Hey Caffrey, what are you working on?"

Diana was asking him about his task but he was nearly done, the ledger thick with pages but he kept it hidden acting like he was just doing grunt work.

"Mortgage fraud cases Peter assigned me from before. My report from the Korsa case is on your desk."

He kept it casual, maybe too much so, his mask a bit thin as he felt more tired than usual. Jones seemed to notice, both agents staying nearby as he stopped copying long enough to engage them. They finally left him alone for their own tasks and he was able to finish his covert attempt to copy the book and pocket it again. Neal felt more fatigued with a hint of dizziness, blinking tiredly when he heard a voice talking to him out of thin air.

_Tick Tock! Your friend is wasting away and you dally here. He must not be much of a friend if you refuse to save him._

The_ domovoi_ was smiling at him with yellow jagged teeth, dark eyes watching him from behind a shelf of case files. Neal didn't know what to think, glancing around but other agents passed and didn't seem to see the little decrepit man near him. Was he the only one who saw it? He spoke quietly afraid someone would see the thing or better yet think he was nuts.

"_Promise me he'll be safe once I return the ledger._"

Neal waited for the thing to nod back, a satisfied look on its face as he grabbed up the copies of the book, walking it up to Peter's office and locked them in a drawer. The little man followed, up the stairs and back down and out as Neal left on the premise he was going to call El to make sure she was ok and to check on Peter. Diana grunted a response to him, looking over his report and not at him as he went down the elevator. He felt uncomfortable with the _domovoi _so close, a warmth washing over his face as if he were flushing at the cheeks. His palms felt clammy as he finally made it to the lobby and left in a hurry. He hailed a cab and gave the address for Dmitri's place, the little man beside him all the way. Things were feeling warmer, his sweaty hands holding the ledger nervously. The _domovoi_ touched his hand with cold gnarled fingers that made him shiver and give a slight gasp despite himself. Normally Neal didn't get frightened but this... this was far different than anything he'd had to deal with before. The creature laughed.

_I feel doubt in you. Do not cross me. Friend or not of my master, I will make you pay._

The taxi couldn't stop soon enough as Neal paid, practically darting from the vehicle to the now boarded up building. Police tape surrounded the area, slapping in the breeze as he waited for less eyes and ducked underneath heading for the back entrance. The _domovoi_ followed, actually showing up ahead of him as he rounded the corner and it smiled at him slyly.

_Breaking into my master's home to return what was his. Not the best approach but I will forgive this trespass if you return the book._

The thing's voice grated on him but he nodded, using a lock pick to get in through a back door and slipping inside. The old brownstone was quiet but for a hint of sound from the city just outside. The lack of sound made every creak and groan of the floor boards of the old building seem like more than just that. Neal's face was warm, flushed he thought as he wiped sweat from his forehead and shivered from the clamminess of his own hands. He wiped them nervously on his pant leg as the con moved stealthily through the empty building finally finding himself upstairs where Dmitri's room was. The safe was still open, his hand reaching into his pocket and pulling out the ledger. It felt smooth in his fingers, almost slick against his bare skin but that could have been from the sweat on his palms.

_Return it... and your friend will heal._

Neal turned to see that the _domovoi_ was perched on a chair looking at him expectantly. He was thinking about the chance he was taking with stealing evidence, considering what Diana and Jones would say much more Peter if he was here. His face felt warmer as he continued to hold the ledger hesitantly and considered what to do. He paused as he felt a buzz from his jacket pocket. He held the ledger under his arm and pulled out his phone, pushing it shakily to his ear.

"_Neal... Where are you?_"

Mozzie's voice was its usual anxious paranoid self, Neal feeling his vision graying some as he tried not to succumb to whatever this feeling was. His hands were slick with sweat, more beading on his forehead. He licked his lips and swallowed hard, his throat felt dry and constricted.

"Dmitri's. _It_ wanted the book back so... I made a copy and..."

He was going to say more, throat tightening up as his tongue suddenly felt thick in his mouth. It was hard to breath, legs shaky, vision tunneling as a cold evil laugh came from the other end of the room.

_Doubt is the enemy. You've had the ledger too long and I sense your debate. You and your friend will suffer for stealing from my master._

The _domovoi_ lunged at him, causing him to drop the phone and ledger as he fell back and hit his head against the edge of the safe door, slipping to the floor stunned. He gave a weak cry, more a breathless gasp as the thing sunk its teeth into his arm and Neal felt something akin to venom entering his system. His eyes started to roll back, mouth gaping for air but he couldn't breathe through his constricting throat. A tiny voice called to him from nearby but he couldn't respond.

"_Neal? Neal? Answer me! Dammit... I'm coming over..._"

**()()()**

Peter didn't remember much from his visit with Neal. He'd been feverish, seeing a little old man in the corner staring coldly at him. He glanced down at his arm, seeing the bite and bruising growing up his arm. It was mottled and grotesque, hurting some when he touched it. The doctor had been there for only a little bit or maybe he had been out of it and time had seemed shorter than it was as he woke in an out of consciousness. El was worrying over him, keeping him hydrated. At some point he was alone, resting when he felt the cold hands on his neck again, opening his eyes to find the little man perched on his chest and trying to strangle him. He struggled weakly, unable to cry out but for a choked gasp as his body flailed and fought to breathe and be free of the demon. Finally El had come in, trying to calm him but she didn't seem to see the little man on his chest, her eyes on him only and then turning briefly to the cell in her hands as she called 9-1-1 and their doctor. Then everything had gone dark as he passed out.

It was an endless, timeless period he spent in the darkness, a tightness in his chest and throat. Was the little man still strangling him? Was Elizabeth ok? He didn't want her hurt but so far his wife had not seemed to see the little old man nor had his partner. At least, he was pretty sure Neal didn't see the figure. Still his friend had looked pale when he had visited, something in his blue eyes saying he'd seen something and had come to make sure it wasn't true. There had been a sense of fear in the con man's eyes and Peter knew now that maybe it had to do with his health and worry. He wanted to be certain, ask his partner why he had looked fearful but in this darkness he could do nothing but float listlessly around in a half-awake state of mind.

_Mozzie... calm down. Tell me what's wrong._

It was Elizabeth's voice, concern in her tone as he listened to the disembodied voice pass through the ether to his trapped mind.

_Mozz, call 9-1-1 then call me back, ok? I have another call, call me back. Hello? Diana... no, I haven't... Mozzie just said that Neal called him. Something's wrong..._

Peter listened to the faint conversation as he faded in and out of what little consciousness he currently had. A deep sense of worry washed over him. Neal was in trouble? He had to help his partner but he didn't know how as he felt himself stirring in the darkness.

_I don't know where Neal is but Mozzie does._

His wife was apparently talking to Diana now he guessed as Peter tried to wake and do something to help. A low groan filled his ears and he wondered who was in pain until he felt his body shift, followed by another groan and he realized it was himself.

_Hun? Diana, let me call you back. I think Peter's waking up._

Elizabeth's voice sounded relieved and excited with just a hint of worry as he felt a familiar hand on his arm and then the same wrapped around his right hand. It was warm and comforting, a hint of smile curling his lips upwards as he felt himself coming to. His body ached the more he became conscious but Peter ignored it although a little voice in the back of his head told him he was going to have one heck of a hangover and he did as he opened up his eyes. The view was blurry, gray around the edges threatening to take him back to darkness but two blue eyes stared back and slowly he could focus some on the face and the familiar smile.

"Hun... can you hear me?"

His wife spoke softly, lovingly as he tried to talk but found something in his mouth keeping him from doing so. He wanted to speak but she soothed him with a touch to his forehead, gently smoothing his hair.

"Shh... You have a breathing tube in your mouth. Just nod your head. I already called the doctor."

El kept close, smoothing his hair and Peter relaxed, swallowing as best he could with the tube in his throat and nodding, eyes looking languidly up at her and then back at the ceiling. He wanted to sleep but something had woken him and for a moment he couldn't remember what. He just wanted to sleep, his head aching.

"Mrs. Burke... I see he's woken up. Just nod if you feel any discomfort Mr. Burke and point to where it hurts. Can you do that for me?"

The doctor wasn't their usual one, the man a little younger and closer to their age as Peter blinked then nodded, pointing at his head and then his mouth. The man smiled softly and chuckled slightly.

"Yes, we had to put that in when you seized before. Seems you're breathing ok on your own now but let me give you a quick once over and we'll talk about removing that tube."

After what seemed the longest twenty minutes of his life, Peter saw the doctor smile and nod, two nurses showing up as El moved aside and they started to remove the breathing tube.

"Cough for me... easy... cough again..."

Peter did as he was told, the doctor a little too cheery for his liking but he was alive wasn't he so the man must know what he was doing. El was watching from the side as he kept his eyes on her until the tube was pulled out completely, a wet cough almost a gurgle coming from his throat. He hacked a little, the nurses quickly adding breathing tubes to his nose and sitting him up a bit in bed to help ease the pressure. El was back at his side when the doctor motioned for her to return, the two nurses busy doing this and that for him as Peter tried to speak.

"D... Do... Doc... ok... n... n... ow?"

His voice was raspier than he liked but he could speak if just barely. El held his hand in hers, stroking the back of his gently as the doctor talked to them.

"You've been very lucky, Mr. Burke. Do you remember acquiring anything unfamiliar in the last few days? Maybe eating at a new place?"

The doctor's words confused him a moment, uncertain what the man was trying to ask him as he glanced over at Elizabeth who looked a bit worried herself. She seemed more aware of what the doctor was asking but shook her head, looking at him a moment.

"Our regular physician came to look at him and said he was just sick with Strep. He had a high fever and we thought... thought it might just be a bad case of that ravaging his system. Peter..."

She looked at him a little longer as if asking something but Peter was still confused or maybe it was the continuing disorientation from being asleep for so long and the illness. He gave a shrug, sitting up a bit as he tried to answer.

"Are you... saying I mi... ight have been... poisoned?"

It occurred to him that's what they meant but it wasn't something he had thought about before, his eyes looking down at his wrist and seeing that the bite looked more like a rash now. His skin was less mottled than it had been when he had originally found it. Since nobody else had seen the little gnarled man, he figured it was either a hallucination from his fever or some other symptom if he was poisoned. Dmitri's men were all locked up so who would have had the means? He noticed the doctor nodding, moving closer to reply.

"We found some high levels of mercury and digitalis in your system along with the strep. Your doctor was right to treat you for the latter but bloodwork would have shone him that you'd also been poisoned. I already talked to your colleague Agent Barrigan and Agent Hughes about this. They are looking into the details but now that you're awake, do you have any recollection as to where you may have touched or ingested something suspicious? The rash on your arm and your fingers indicated superficial chemical burns and a hint of tannins."

The doctor's words weren't comforting but they made Peter realize where his problems had started and why. His eyes widened and he nodded, looking at El and then at the doctor again. Things were beginning to make more sense now as he became more conscious.

"I think I have an idea. I need to... contact someone from the FBI. I can't give any more details because it deals with... an ongoing case but they will... contact you with more info once forensics gets involved. Thanks."

The doctor nodded at him, telling him he was going to be fine. Apparently his reaction was minor in comparison to what it could have been. They were left alone and El gently moved his head to face her.

"Hun... what's going on? How did you get poisoned? He said you may have eaten or touched something. I don't understand..."

El wasn't really asking him more than trying to figure out how he was sick. Peter was still uncertain if his hunch was correct although his gut told him he was going in the right direction as the ledger filled his thoughts.

"Something to do with that last case... I need to talk to Neal."

Suddenly he felt a need to contact his partner, a feeling of dread washing over him. Neal was at their house when he was sick and he had a bad habit of getting into things and in trouble. In this case it was the ledger and although it was ok for Neal to look at it, if he did he might get sick too if Peter's hunch was correct. El was silent, her hand squeezing his as he glanced up to find her eyes watching him with concern. If Neal didn't touch the ledger, which he was hoping for, then he could take it to forensics for testing.

"Peter... hun... Neal's... before you woke up I got a call from Mozzie. He said Neal was in trouble and he wanted me to call the FBI. I don't know what's going on but he sounded upset. I told Diana about it. She was asking where Neal went. He was supposed to be at work..."

His wife sounded more worried than usual about their friend and now he remembered what had woken him up. He had been listening to his wife talking about Neal. She had been talking to Mozzie on her cell then switched to a call with one of his fellow agents. He sat up a bit straighter, wincing from the pain his body felt. The poison and strep had made him feel weak, his chest tight and sore as he coughed and hacked. El patted him on the back, offering him a cup of water which he took thankfully.

"Neal's in trouble? What happened?"

The look El gave him as she shrugged filled him with more worry and concern. Where was Neal? Why had Mozzie called his wife? Maybe it had nothing to do with the ledger but his gut told him everything was connected.

"Call Diana for me, El. I have to find out what's going on."

**()()()**

**Author's Note****:** _The plot thickens!_


	5. Chapter 5

**(Chapter 5)**

Mozzie entered the old brownstone cautiously, uncertain what might be awaiting him as he glanced around looking for his friend and cohort. The first floor was empty as he expected, the floorboards creaking quietly under his weight as he tiptoed around Korsa's former base of operations and headed for the stairs. Each creak of the wooden stairs was like a gunshot to his sensitive ears as he headed up as quietly as he could. The con just hoped whatever happened, Neal was ok. The cell had hung up of its own accord before he arrived making the little guy's imagination run wild as to how and what. So far he hadn't heard anything but himself moving around inside the building so he figured either Neal was unconscious or someone had taken him. He made it to the second floor without any interference, entering the main corridor and walking along an open railing that looked down over the first floor. A few feet down he found himself at an open door, the only one in fact as he moved closer. There was a slight chill in the air but he ignored it as nerves, taking a step inside after a quick look around. He was alone.

The room was more an office than a bedroom, Dmitri's base he thought as he looked around at the lavish decor a moment. He was distracted by something gold plated and shiny on a nearby end table before his peripheral vision picked up something that made him turn to his left and gawk. Mozzie wasn't sure what to do at first as he moved closer to the figure laying on the floor at the bottom of an open safe. A small streak of red followed them down to the shiny wooden floor boards, dull blue eyes open just a crack and staring blankly ahead, their mouth slightly frothy and slack jawed. He moved slowly forward uncertain how to react as he crouched beside his friend and nudged him cautiously.

"Neal... Neal..."

The con turned FBI consultant didn't move, eyes staring ahead glassily. Mozzie was in shock, the germophobe side of him on high alert but worry for Neal took over and he started to come back to himself. He noticed the ashy tone of Neal's skin and a slightly more bluish tone deepening around his friend's gaping mouth which seemed frozen in a silent scream. Mozzie took a chance for him at least and felt for a pulse. Neal was cool but he wasn't cold, no pulse evident before he listened to his friend's chest and gasped. There was nothing, Neal apparently dead as he opened up the young man's suit jacket, unbuttoned the collar and loosened the tie to start CPR. The drool and froth around his friend's mouth scared him but he wouldn't let him die because of his OCD. He gently wiped his friend's mouth with his handkerchief, clearing the airway and giving a few strong puffs of air. No reaction.

"Come on Neal... wake up! Neal..."

He started pounding on the consultant's chest, doing compressions and then clearing the airway again, doing his best not to flinch as he touched cool wet lips once more and started to breath for Neal. Mozzie continued this for what felt hours until he heard a noise, turning to find Agent Jones and Barrigan looking at him from the doorway. In some ways he was relieved to see the two agents, whatever blame he had for Suits keeping his friend on a leash evaporating as he spoke to them. His voice was filled with sadness.

"He's... not breathing."

Mozzie felt hopeful they would bring him back, the last minute or two seemingly a lifetime as they walked over without hesitation and started to help. Another agent he didn't recognize was calling 9-1-1 and reporting what they found to other agents he guessed as Junior and Lady Suits worked on Neal. He felt helpless as the two agents took over on giving CPR asking him questions he didn't know the answers to. He just wanted Neal to be ok. Why all the questions? Did they not understand the urgency of the situation?!

"He was like this when I came in. Quit asking me stupid questions and get him breathing again!"

He was yelling some, another agent on standby with gun ready but Junior and Lady suits held up a hand for them to back off. Mozzie moved off a bit, rocking back and forth desolately like a child as he watched them work on Neal who continued to do a very bad impression of a dead person. He had to live. Neal couldn't...

"I have a pulse!"

Jones announced happily and with much relief as Diana smiled with her own much more relieved huff of breath.

"He's breathing again... Caffrey... Come on, Neal. Wake up!"

Mozzie stopped rocking as she spoke, looking over at the two agents uncertainly and moving a bit closer to see if they were telling the truth. He was just behind them when he heard the wheezing gasp and noticed that those blue eyes although still dull and shiny now seemed to move as they should, the wheezing growing worse as they bugged out a bit before partially closing. Both agents looked concerned as they called back to the other Suits. Neal wasn't out of the woods yet.

"Is the paramedic here yet?"

Jones' voice sounded concerned but more authoritative as one agent acted quickly and went to check. Meanwhile they were trying to keep Neal calm, his face reddish from the effort to breath. His lips remained a slight hint of purplish blue as Mozzie watched, seeing those eyes turn to him curiously before they rolled back and he seized, Neal's body convulsing. Diana was holding him in her arms now, keeping his head back enough to help him breath as they tried to keep him still. They placed his tie in his mouth to keep him from swallowing his tongue, the consultant shaking and twitching like nothing Mozzie had seen before. It was a terrifying sight.

"Dammit... he's seizing! Where are those paramedics?!"

Diana sounded simultaneously pissed and worried, Mozzie watching how she held Neal securely in her arms, quietly threatening him to not die on her. Meanwhile Jones was coordinating the other suits on and off his cell before they saw the first paramedic and rushed them over. Another followed, Jones and Diana reluctantly letting go of Neal as the EMTs started to work on helping the conman breathe. Mozzie watched nervously as they poked a hole in Neal's neck and he felt his stomach turning but he didn't say anything, shock keeping him quiet. Jones was beside him with a gentle hand on his shoulder as they watched the scene together in uncharacteristic silence. Once the operation was finished and the trach installed, Neal started to calm down and the seizures eased up. Mozzie had read of the procedure before but seeing it on his friend by a government based medic made him sick despite knowing it was what his friend needed. Only his sense of letting them help Neal kept him from speaking up for once. Jones patted him on the arm, Mozzie never taking his eyes from the scene, the image burned into his memory forever.

"He's going to be ok, Mozzie. Did you want to ride with us to the hospital?"

Jones was being kind, his voice calm but all Mozzie kept seeing was the paramedics doing a tracheotomy on Neal. Finally he shrugged, moving away as the stretcher with his friend was lifted and the EMTs started to exit the room. Diana followed, saying she would leave something with Jones to take to evidence. That's when Mozzie noticed they had gloves on and Jr. Suit was holding Dmitri's ledger and an evidence bag. He needed that book to figure out what was going on but the suits had it, his eyes watching as the agent placed it in the bag and shoved it into his pocket.

"_I'll keep an eye on the little guy. Call me with a status._"

Jones was talking to Diana who glanced between them both before quickly following the stretcher and an unconscious Neal Caffrey. Mozzie's eye was on the book in Junior Suit's pocket, waiting for a moment to steal it. Neal had thought it was important to helping Peter. His eyes strayed back to his friend as the EMTs placed Neal into the back of an ambulance. He kept staring after the doors shut, a voice bringing him back to the present.

"Mozzie..."

He perked up as his name was called, Jones looking down at him curiously. Mozzie put on his most innocent face but the agent gave him an even more direct look. Maybe the book wasn't worth the trouble, his thoughts on Neal and what Anton had told him about the brand.

"Do you know why Neal was here at Dmitri's? This was closed to everyone due to the investigation. Should I even ask?"

Jones sounded frustrated but Mozzie just stared at him blankly then back at the ambulance. He wanted to go after Neal but the scene from before kept coming back to him. Neal was breathing and alive now so he had relaxed around the Suits although his fear of hospitals and doctors was still evident as he shook his head. He thought about taking the ledger now before Junior Suit knew what was going on but changed his mind.

"Ask questions later, Jr. Suit. I... honestly don't know why he was here. _May_ I leave now?"

He knew Jones was just being his usual _suit_ self but sensed some sympathy underneath considering the circumstances. Finally the agent nodded with a frustrated sigh, waving him off.

Mozzie thought about why Neal wanted that ledger. The con believed in many things but ghosts weren't one of them. Maybe it was best to leave the ledger with the Suits, since he thought it had so far caused nothing but bad luck. _That_ he believed in and right now they could do with less of it. Jones turned, busy with coordinating things on the ground which meant Mozzie could make his usual disappearing act, his concern for Neal making him rush covertly past all the suits and out of sight. The ambulance was already taking off with Neal as he made his own get away. Lady Suit would make sure Neal was ok if only for Peter's sake; He believed that much as he hailed a cab and slipped inside.

"Follow that ambulance."

**()()()**

Peter was resting when he heard voices outside. He'd been worrying about Neal but El had known nothing more than what Mozzie had told her over the cell. He had only said that Neal had called and was in trouble but nothing else. While they waited for news he had dreams about Neal in danger and being unable to help, the little old man in the background chuckling darkly. After a while other voices woke him up as he slowly came to, the decrepit old man vanishing from his thoughts.

_He's very ill and we had to place him in a medical coma. Until his body has stopped seizing and he's breathing on his own we can't let visitors in. I'm sorry._

It was the doctor's voice from earlier, Peter knew that much but he had no idea who they were talking about or to whom. He wasn't that ill so it had to be someone else.

_Thank you doctor. Hey, Diana... where's Mozzie?_

His wife was talking now which answered part of the second question as he shifted enough to sit up and strain his ears to listen for more. Their voices were muffled at best through the door but the room was quiet so he could get enough to hear what was going on.

_The little guy was outside last I looked. I know he hates hospitals so I let him be. I was worried about Caffrey. Jones said Forensics is looking into that ledger Caffrey had in his pocket. Peter had it so I'm not sure how Neal got a hold of it although I can guess._

Diana spoke matter of factly, only a slight teasing hint of derision in her tone when she spoke of "_the little guy_" aka Mozzie. Despite their differences when it came to Neal or himself, they worked well together if needed. Mozz was a team player when it benefitted either himself or Neal although he was more a behind the scenes kind of person. That probably explained why Mozzie wasn't on many lists like Neal when it came to most wanted. It made sense. Peter perked up when he heard the Doctor speaking again.

_I'll be sure to keep you up to date on Mr. Caffrey's prognosis. they're waiting on his bloodwork to come back but I have a feeling they'll find some of the same substances that were in Agent Burke's scan. His doctor said that he was showing signs of the same poisoning that was in your husband's system. Agent Barrigan, please let me know what your forensic team discovers. I'd be interested in that report._

Their voices grew quieter after that as if they were walking away and then only a hint of background noises as he waited to see if El or Diana came in to visit with him. He was in a more normal room now, no longer considered critical once he'd awaken and the breathing tube had been removed. Peter sighed with a little hacky cough, his lungs still struggling with the strep and after effects of the poisons in his system. He was only aware of one thing that had tannins he might of touched and that had been the ledger. He was suddenly curious why Dmitri would have such a poisonous thing in his possession. Was Korsa really so paranoid he would risk poisoning his own men by boobytrapping things with poisons? It was an interesting thought interrupted when he heard the door softly opening and whispers.

"_I don't know if Peter's awake. He was sleeping when I left. Whatever made him sick seems to be effecting Neal. Thank you for checking it out with Jones. Have you found a reason behind everything yet?_"

El had barely said those words when they both turned towards him, Peter letting them know he was awake with a hoard cough. He had sat up, leaning back against the pillows as comfortably as possible. His wife moved closer to hug him gently, Diana giving him a pat on the shoulder when it was her turn.

"Boss... glad to see you're doing better."

The agent's manner was respectful but he could tell she was upset about letting Neal get into trouble on her watch. He squeezed her hand gently.

"Thanks. How's... Neal?"

It had been at least four hours since he'd heard about Neal being in trouble. He saw his wife and Diana look between themselves when El finally nodded her approval. Obviously they were waiting to tell him later but he had surprised them with his question.

"Not good. They had to _trach_ him on site and surprisingly the little guy didn't react like he usually does. I think he knew it was a necessary evil. I can't say I wasn't shocked to watch them operate on Caffrey. It wasn't pretty... The doctor in charge said he would let us know how Neal is as soon as they finished examining him. They're still working on getting his system back to normal."

Diana sounded worried and that made Peter feel worse than he already did. The case had been dangerous enough originally and now this. Obviously his partner had taken up the ledger. What other explanation was there? He watched his wife stand when Diana did.

"I need to head back to the Bureau, boss. We have the ledger now. Jones is having forensics see what's hidden inside of it. Hope that helps. Feel better."

She nodded to them both, El giving him a hug and whispering: _I'm going to check on Mozzie _as both women left the room and Peter found himself alone once again. He was far from well but he was better than he had been barely 30 hours ago when he'd first fallen ill. Neal had been there for him but Peter had been too ill to help his partner. How could any of them have known about the ledger's secret? The mystery or Korsa's poisoned book kept his mind busy as he lay back and tried to relax again. All he could think about was the effects of the ledger and that creepy old man from his nightmares. He no longer saw the strange figure making him think it had all been in his head. Now it was a waiting game to see why he and Neal had both been sick.

**()()()**

Mozzie was torn between his fear of hospitals and following the lady suit into the very place he was afraid of to see how Neal was. He could still see the image of blood from Dmitri's room. Although it had only been a little spilling over Neal's neck as the EMTs put in the tube to help his friend breathe, it had been enough to scar him with that image burned into his memory. He had remained quiet but internally he'd been cursing about the evils of government run, socialized medicine. Lady and Junior Suits had let him be, the former looking back at him curiously when he didn't follow inside. She had remained near the ER entrance noticing when he exited his taxi. She was on her cell to someone, that same questioning look on her face that seemed to ask if he wanted to go see Neal before she shrugged and went inside. Did he notice pity there or had it been imagined? He couldn't think she cared about his dilemma but there had been something. A good hour passed before he saw a familiar face walking towards him. They stood next to him, gently squeezing his shoulder. After a moment they both sat on a nearby bench.

"Hey Mozz..."

Elizabeth Burke's voice was soft, gentle in a tired sort of way. She looked paler than he remembered, her eyes slightly pinkish around the corners as if she hadn't slept much if any. Mozzie imagined she'd had little rest even though it had only been barely a day or so since the Suit had been ill. Neal had had the same look, exhaustion and worry washing over his friend with deep concern over Peter's condition. He shrugged, trying not to appear as fragile as he felt. He imagined she was doing the same thing.

"Peter's doing better. He's awake now. They removed the breathing tube."

She was trying to be positive, not really looking at him but he heard the worry hidden in her tone as she kept her hands in her lap for once. She was normally quite the huggy person, a friendly soul who cared about those closest to her and those she loved. She had taken in Neal and him like two lost children who needed a mother or big sister maybe. He glanced over at her and nodded, doing his best to smile at her ever so faintly.

"I'm glad. Neal told me he was doing _poorly_ the other day. I'm glad Peter recovered."

He stopped there, something obviously not right in what he said and it made him anxious. Mozzie wasn't very good with people and he hesitated, unable to ask what he wanted to. An ache in his gut told him it might be worse than he guessed as he avoided the topic he desperately wished to bring up. El seemed to know, pulling an arm around him and kissing his temple. The act was comforting, the con man feeling less anxious as she replied.

"They're taking good care of Neal. I promise. I... I can call you when we hear something new. He's been put in ICU for now. No visitors until he's more stable."

She sounded upset despite the calmness of her tone and Mozzie nodded back, squeezing her hand in his. She was one of the few who understood them for who they were. For that, Mozzie was grateful.

"Thanks. You know what number to call. I'll leave it up to you and the Suits... like I have a choice but... _you_ have his back. Tell..."

He hesitated before she nodded, knowing she guessed what he meant. It was hard for him to talk openly especially with emotion. Mozzie wasn't used to it. She smiled when he said the last words and he felt a hint of smile on his own lips before standing. She continued to sit as he walked to the curb to hail a cab. He trusted Elizabeth and Peter to help Neal. Despite his fear of hospitals he knew that if Peter was in the same government run institute, they'd have to keep his friend safe. It was the best he could hope for after what he'd seen. Neal needed this kind of help whether he believed in it or not. He trusted the Burkes much to his own chagrin and that alone broke his own code of having ties (_he was a con man after all_) but they'd proven themselves worthy of his trust so he walked away knowing that Neal was safe.

**()()()**

**Author's Note****:** _Sounds like the boys had a very close call, Neal included and Mozzie managed to help save the day despite his usual reluctance. More to come._


	6. Chapter 6

**(Chapter 6)**

Neal was still in Dmitri's room when he came to, rubbing at his head which was throbbing painfully. There was something wet and slightly reddish on his hand as he glanced down at his fingers. Suddenly he remembered what happened: the _domovoi_ had attacked him. His left arm throbbed too, eyes glancing down and seeing a large red mark by his wrist in the form of a circle that seemed to match a bite pattern. He was still in a daze, eyes looking up to find himself staring into dark empty orbs as he eased up into a sitting position. It blinked back at him.

_It is as you deserved for lying to me. You are not to be trusted and I will make sure my master knows._

The _thing_ was there, perched on the end of a chair like some kind of ugly bird of prey only it was the same gnarled old man, dark eyes glaring at him without emotion. Neal sat up straighter his gaze never leaving the _domovoi_. Something changed in its demeanor as he slowly pulled himself to his feet. It hissed like a frightened animal as he stood up straight and stayed his ground. It was unhappy with him, frowning back with an almost thoughtful expression it had never shown before. It suddenly occurred to him why. In some odd fashion it missed Korsa, the man who had commanded, owned and enslaved it. Without a master, it was unable to survive or know what to do.

_Dmitri is in prison and will be for a very long time. You no longer have a master. All of __**this**__ will be confiscated, sold and otherwise dispersed. Will you haunt all of those people too?_

Neal was being mean now because he could. He had power over it with knowledge behind its very actions. Without a master, it was helpless and it knew that as he did. A growl in his voice pushed the point through, the creature blinking back almost curiously at him. He was angry, thinking about Peter in the hospital, this thing the reason behind it. It looked at him a moment blankly, then a frown again touched its lips as it hopped off the chair and moved closer but still out of arm's reach, head cocked to one side like a deformed parrot before straightening out again. It was eerie to watch but Neal knew he had the upperhand as he continued to stare coldly back. Fear was not an option.

_More intruders touching my... my master's things? No! It's not true! He will be back for me!_

The thing sounded angry, upset, childishly impudent, but in some ways Neal thought it reminded him of Mozzie when people messed with this stuff. This thing was like a beaten dog blindly following its master's orders to guard the junkyard but suddenly realizing it would never be able to do so. It was used to being shut in, comfortable behind the scenes and taken care of to some degree. For a moment he almost felt pity for the creature but seeing the red mark on his arm brought back why he was angry with it. It had hurt Peter and tried to hurt him. He had to send it away for good and end this curse once and for all.

_He won't be back... ever! Whatever you are, you're alone now. Nobody will ever come here again for you to keep house for. I will make sure this place is razed to the ground! You are no longer necessary without a master._

Neal spit out the words with as much venom as he could muster. He watched its dark eyes dull and grow dimmer, a sad almost anguished glint to its features now. He jumped slightly when it started to cry. The _domovoi_ looked less threatening now, the sound it made more a pained wail or moaning which was eerie as a wolf's howl. Neal watched the thing impassionately as it looked away and stared opposite him at the rest of the room.

_None of them ever came back for me. The time has finally come. I will serve no new master..._

The voice faded away as did the creature, Neal feeling a sense of release as it vanished. He glanced around the now empty room. He was still in Dmitri's, limping from the room and out into the hallway towards the stairs. The house was silent but more than that, he couldn't hear anything from outside. The city couldn't be this muffled even with these old stone walls, could it? He fought to hear something other than his own heartbeat in the quiet brownstone. Even his breathing seemed way too audible, the room quiet as a grave.

_Beep... Beep... Beep..._

The sound came quietly from the door below, the one he had entered through. It sounded strangely familiar but he couldn't understand why he was hearing it here or now. Neal moved towards the door he had entered the house through, free now of the curse and hopeful that Peter was ok. He reached for the door, turned the knob and suddenly found himself staring upwards, eyes squinting at something blurry and white overhead. His mouth was wrapped around something, a gurgling sound coming from close by as he tried to figure out where he was and what had happened.

"If he doesn't wake up soon we may have to call in an expert from the next county. His body is fighting the poisons from the ledger's cover. Still uncertain how contact caused this reaction but your husband's coworkers gave us much to work on with that forensics report."

There was a pause, the voices quieter for a moment, almost a murmur before he heard more.

"He seems to have absorbed a larger dose than your husband, the mercury the main element in his blood work. We are no longer medically inducing a coma so there are only a few other reasons why your friend hasn't woken up. His seizures stopped thankfully but until he wakes up, I have no other explanation for his condition at this time. This is up to him."

A man was talking, his eyes moving to see where and finally getting a vision of a blurry figure in a white lab coat with blue scrubs underneath standing outside a large window with another figure in a beige shirt and dark pants. The gurgling continued and he felt a pressure in his throat. His eyes focused on a large tube sticking out of his mouth, Neal fighting to keep calm but the tubing started to bother him, his gag reflex starting to kick in.

"Thank you doctor. Peter is feeling better so much so he's asking when he can come see Neal. He's also restless about going home but I know you wanted to be sure his strep and any other symptoms were completely gone. He no longer has a fever."

Elizabeth Burke was smiling, his vision clearing up enough to realize that as she replied to the doctor. He wanted to yell out, get someone's attention when blue eyes finally met his and gawked, pointing at him.

"Doctor..."

They were both looking at him through the glass now, Neal blinking to clear the crust from his eyes. Why was he so tired? He had just been somewhere hadn't he? He felt like he'd been sleeping for a while, the glass he thought was a window sliding open as they entered the room and the man in blue scrubs and a white lab coat approached first.

"Is he awake?"

El asked, watching from behind with her own hopeful glance, the doctor looking curiously down at him.

"Mr. Caffrey, nod your head up and down if you can hear me."

Neal felt tired but he did as asked, nodding his head which made El and the doctor smile. A few nurses and orderlies came in after that, El moving aside as the doctor checked his pulse, listened to his respiration with a stethoscope and finally nodded as if satisfied with something.

"We're going to remove the tubing from your throat. I need you to do some hard coughs to help us remove it. If you need us to stop, just grab my arm, ok?"

The doctor was looking right at him as he nodded back, Neal still too tired to argue. He just wanted this stuff out of his throat, that feeling of fullness and other pains getting more uncomfortable by the minute. He looked at El a little panicked as the tube was removed but saw her smiling at him with a comforting look as the process continued and he gave a gurgling cough, the breathing tube finally sliding out of his throat. He coughed and hacked like he had been smoking too much but the nurses helped him as tubing was put in his nose to help him settle into a more comfortable breathing pattern. After a moment he finally lay back exhausted, only a slight wheeze still evident. His eyes were shut but he wasn't sleeping, the murmuring of the staff around him more than obvious as he fought for consciousness. He felt the stethoscope back on his chest and then on his back as they rolled him over gently, listening to his lungs and asking him to cough for them. The doctor sounded happy.

"Your lungs sound good. We'll keep a mask nearby just in case but I think you're finally out of the woods, Mr. Caffrey. _Don't make him speak too much yet, Mrs. Burke. His throat and lungs will feel a bit rough for the next day or so until he recovers completely. There should be very little scarring._"

He heard them speaking, the last part lower and more to Elizabeth than himself as he opened up his eyes and glanced around. The nurses had all left but one who was taking further orders from the doctor but he couldn't hear about what. She walked over after a few minutes, a cup in hand full of ice chips.

"I'll bring you some food later if you're hungry. My name is Irene. Just use the nurse call and I'll come bring you something to eat."

She gave him a soft smile, fluffing up his pillows as he nodded back, slipping a few pieces of ice into his throat and letting the coolness ease the tenderness from the breathing tube. He gave a little cough at first but finally his throat settled down and he was able to eat a bit more of the ice. He could breath better but something crinkled around his throat which made him reach up. Why was there gauze around his neck? He looked at Elizabeth curiously. The doctor finally answered, telling him about being trached. Neal felt his eyes widen but he nodded back, the doctor answering any further questions before finishing up and leaving them alone again. El moved to the chair beside his bed, now that everyone was gone, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it gently.

"Peter's been asking about you. He'll be happy to know you're awake."

She pulled out a pad of paper from her purse and handed it to him when he made it clear he couldn't speak but wanted to. Neal's need to communicate one of his many talents but right now his throat and chest were too tight and sore to think about making anything more than a cough or a sigh. He quickly scribbled a note over the page and handed it back, El taking a moment before she answered.

"Peter's good. They're going to let him out soon. It was the strep mixed with whatever was on that book that made him sick. They finally analyzed the cover and that brand as the possible culprit."

She paused, giving him a gentle hug and squeeze of his hand before saying something more, a wry smile on her lips.

"Mozzie says hi."

_Mozzie!_ He had a faint memory of talking to his friend before he had passed out. There were other memories but they were vague, something to do with an old man and Dmitri's former brownstone. He'd been there hadn't he? It was starting to come back to him when he noticed El was looking at him curiously. He smiled back, letting her baby him, fluff his pillows more and help him with the cup of ice chips when he was feeling too tired to hold it up on his own. His body felt weak, Neal wanting to be up and about instead of in the hospital but he knew his limits even if he didn't want to admit it. Most of all he wanted to see Peter.

"I'm sure you'll be out of here soon, Neal. Peter's been restless. _Why do men make such terrible patients?_"

She muttered the last part to herself, Neal taking up the pad again and handing her a message back. He watched her eyes blink at what he'd written before a big grin brighten her face. She rolled her eyes at him, gently punched his shoulder and laughed.

"Of course you'd say that..."

They laughed, his laugh more implied before he scribbled the next part and handed it over. He saw the frown form immediately, Elizabeth flushing slightly before she answered.

"Mozzie found you at that crime scene. You weren't breathing so the paramedics had to... do a trach. The doctor said there'd be very little scarring. Mozz has been worrying about you but now I can tell him you're ok. He was practically camped outside the first two days. He might be outside now if I go looking for him."

They both smiled and nodded at that, continuing their little chat as El spoke quietly to him and Neal scribbled his replies back. He was glad to see her happy again now that Peter was ok. Knowing his friend was well was the reason he had stolen the ledger for. He would do it again in a heartbeat.

**()()()**

It was a month later the trial for Dmitri Korsa was held. Peter went to the trial as a witness but Neal stayed away mostly due to continuing health issues after the incident. When Dmitri was being escorted away from the courtroom, Peter was asked to come talk to him. His gut told him it wasn't a good idea but something about the request made him want to know what the gangster had to say. Dmitri was a well groomed man, something like Neal in style but without the good looks. The man wasn't ugly but he had a more sinister heavy set face and body that made it hard not to shiver in his presence. White teeth with a slight crookedness to them grinned coldly back as they stared at him from only a few feet away in cuffs. He wore a nice suit, possibly Armani or some other expensive brand Caffrey could ID. It just reminded him of his worries over Neal.

"Agent Burke, I'm glad you're doing better. I would have sent a card but... well, you know how it is."

The man was cool, cucumber cool he thought if Peter was going to be silly about it but it was more than that. The man knew he had gotten to the agent, the smirk on his face more than telling.

"It's the thought that counts... So, why the chat, Dmitri? If you're trying to cop a plea..."

He would have said more but Peter was interrupted by the lawyer holding up a hand.

"A peace offering. My client knows he's going away for a very long time but he appreciates the pain and suffering you went through to catch him. Just a small token of his admiration for getting past his defenses..."

Peter heard the last words and blinked slightly, taken off guard only a moment when he realized the gift wasn't for him so much as for Neal. Dmitri knew about him. He tried to hide that realization but the gangster smiled knowingly, the lawyer handing Peter a small gold leaf cardboard box like you get from Tiffany's only it was dyed red, almost bloody with contrasting gold ribbon tying it closed. Whatever it was, the item was expensive but it was small, about the size of a wallet or finely folded tie. Peter held up a hand but the lawyer shook his head, pushing the box in his hands as they started to take Dmitri away down the hallway.

"_Leave it if you want but it is for you. No tricks..._"

The lawyer nodded politely before going, following the cops and his client out as Peter watched uncertain what to think before his eyes moved back to the box. He wasn't sure he wanted to touch anything from Dmitri at this point but maybe forensics could look at it for him. It was worth a shot. He used a handkerchief to handle the item and left, pulling out his cell to call his wife.

"The trial's over... yes. I'll be home soon, hun. Love you more."

He hung up, walking over to his car and dropping the box on the front passenger seat still covered with his handkerchief. The idea of what could be inside made him cold, something in his gut still actively telling him this was a very bad idea as he drove to the Bureau and took it to forensics. Afterwards he went back to his own floor to touch base with Hughes, Jones and Diana.

"Hey boss, how was the trial?"

Diana was standing by his door when he turned and smiled. At least they could relax now. Dmitri was behind bars and everyone was safe. He draped his jacket around his chair and shrugged.

"Always good to see justice prevail. Where's Hughes?"

He had barely said that when Jones stopped by, smiling at them as they chatted a bit.

"He's at a meeting. Why don't you go home, Peter. I can run interference if anyone asks where you went. Besides, someone has to keep an eye on Caffrey."

She winked at him, Jones holding back a smile as they both nodded for him to go. Reese hadn't said to come back today and technically he was still off duty for a few more days. The cocktail on that book cover had made him have dizzy spells off and on since the incident, the doctors saying it was a normal side effect as the drugs left his system. Both he and Neal had gotten a fairly large dosage through their skin meaning they would have symptoms like weakness and dizzy spells until it was completely out of their system. Peter finally nodded, grabbing up his jacket. He wanted to take his wife out for dinner as a celebration and check on Neal who had been housebound at June's. His partner had gotten a larger dose of the toxins than him so Neal was still prone to dizzy and coughing spells more than Peter had been.

"Thanks. See you both later."

**()()()**

Another week past, Peter was back at work and Neal was visiting, feet propped up cockily on the desk as he walked in and pushed them off.

"Don't... what are you doing here? You don't come back for another week. And don't tell me you're bored..."

Peter walked past the younger man, draping his jacket onto his chair and sitting down but Neal hadn't moved but to sit up a bit straighter and lean over the desk smiling at him. There was a hint of tiredness around his partner's eyes but otherwise the old Neal Caffrey was shining through. The scar where they had trached him was barely noticeable now.

"It's not just that... I am bored but I heard Dmitri gave you a gift? Ericka in Forensics dropped something on your desk while you were at that meeting..."

His voice trailed off coyly, Peter scowling slight as the report file appeared from under Neal's arm and he handed it over, the agent taking it gruffly.

"You're not on duty means you don't _look_ at files and don't _hide_ things from me like this without consulting me first."

He paused a moment seeing a hint of hurt in his friend's eyes. Neal liked knowing things and he obviously wanted to help so he sighed, smiled and dropped the file on his desk without opening it.

"I'm guessing you read it already. Tell me what it says. I can only imagine what he got me (_other than more poison or a bomb_)..."

He was watching his friend smiling brighter, leaning over closer to open up the folder and point at a glossy color picture.

"A tie bar. Classic retro art deco style from the 30s. Even Byron didn't have one of these in his collection but they are hard to come by. I think Dmitri liked you Peter if he gave you this. And no signs of poison or other danger from it. Are you sure it was for you?"

He was grinning from ear to ear now, Caffrey back in his game which made the agent happy but he wasn't about to say that as he put on a show, his manner calm. He knew that annoyed his partner and it was showing already.

"A tie bar? I don't have a need for it. Probably sell it or give it away... know anyone who would like something foofy like this? Do they sell on Ebay?"

There was a tragic look in his partner's eyes for an instant then it vanished, the con man coming out to hide his disappointment.

"I'm sure you could _uh_ sell it on Ebay for a pretty penny to some collector who lives in his mother's basement... if that's the route you want to go."

Neal was piling it on, disappointment hard to hide as Peter went on with the charade and nodded.

"I just might. Some poor schlub in Poughkeepsie with a few bucks to burn and an eye for shiny objects might give me a good penny for it. Thanks for the idea Neal. Now... _go home_. I have work to do."

He watched the con man's face hold back the disappointment momentarily glittering behind those blue eyes. Neal nodded, acting his usual witty self to hide his real feelings as he left. Peter watched his friend look back but only for a moment, waving nonchalantly before exiting to the elevators. Peter sighed, smiling some but then frowning. He wasn't sure what to think of Dmitri's gift. It had been hinted it was for him but he felt it was probably pushed more towards Neal when he realized the gangster had been aware of their ruse. Neal had that effect on people, even the ones who hated him. He opened up the report and glanced at the details seeing the box was still in Agent Ericka Fletcher's offices in a lock box. Once Neal was gone he called the tech up.

"This is Agent Burke. Yes... I'm sure he did. Oh? Well I'm glad you were able to fight his charms, Agent Fletcher... I see. Yes, but you'd have to talk to him about that. Thanks again. I appreciate it."

She was sending another tech down with the package, Peter already thinking about what he was going to do with it.

**()()()**

Neal wasn't mad, he was just annoyed. Peter knew he wanted what was in the box from Dmitri and for all he could tell, it had to be for him. Since when did the agent wear anything beyond that old beat up watch of his and his wedding ring? Never! Dmitri must have not been thinking straight to gift it on Peter. Neal had admired the item everyday he worked with the gangster but kept his hands to himself knowing it would be missed. He only knew the gangster wore it almost as religiously as the cross around his neck. He figured it was some kind of family heirloom but the item was vintage tie wear and if Neal could get it for himself...

He paused in his thoughts when he heard a knock at the door. It wasn't the usual iambic pentameter so it must be June or some other guest.

"Neal, are you there?"

He glanced at the clock when he heard Peter's voice realizing it was nearly 6 PM and his partner was outside the door. The con man sat up, a wave of dizziness still present but he was feeling better than he had a month back as he let it wash away and moved to the door with ease. He pulled it open and smiled brightly, hiding any disappointment he might have been feeling.

"Hey Peter, what brings you to my humble abode? Can I go back to work tomorrow?"

Neal was hopeful, trying to act like he was kidding but he was seriously bored and wanting to go back to work even for the Feds. He liked his job but he liked working with Peter and the rest of the White Collar department best and Mozzie had been without any leads on good cons not that he was considering any but any ship in a storm. He was getting antsy being homebound but he knew it was for his own good as he felt a slight wave of dizziness again and motioned for Peter to come in so he could hide it as he leaned on the door a bit more heavily than he liked.

"I'm just passing through and no, you're still off for a few days more. No arguments. Got anything to drink?"

The agent went right for the gist of things, Neal nodding as he closed the door and they moved to the kitchenette, Peter grabbing a beer from the fridge as if it were his own house and Neal taking one for himself to fit in. It was that kind of day and he wanted to just deal as they clinked bottles and sat down outside. The sky was slightly hazy, a storm getting ready to blow in as the air grew humid and they talked quietly about this and that. Peter had slung his _Columboesque_ coat over the patio chair and Neal immediately noticed that one pocket was heavier than the other but he said nothing, their chat moving from work to Mozzie and then to nothing more than the usual subjects until Peter gave a little laugh, sighed and reached for the heavier of the coat pockets.

"I know you saw it and because you were such a good host and didn't bug me about this, here... take it. I could feel that child-like curiosity of yours tearing at the packaging behind your smile."

Peter was smirking slightly as Neal rolled his eyes at him, taking the small reddish box with gold trim. This was handmade from overseas, European he knew from a certain boutique. Dmitri had taste. He opened up the box and smiled, a wistful expression on his face as he glanced up at his friend and grinned.

"Thanks Peter. I thought this was evidence... besides the fact it's a gift from a gangster."

Two could play this game, the agent giving him a fatherly scowl then shrugging.

"Well I could take it back and sell it on Ebay..."

_Touche'._ The agent read him well as he shook his head and held the pretty gold tie bar in his hands. It felt cool, a chill running through him but that was probably the excitement from getting the item he wanted. He noticed that the design was Eastern European with definite hints of art deco and Ertesque design elements. Maybe it was by the artist himself but at this moment Neal was just happy to have it, grinning at Peter coyly.

"That so-called _schlub_ can buy his own. Thanks, Peter. I mean it. This is... this was one of Dmitri's prize possessions. You can't believe how many times I... uhm admired it while undercover."

He saw Peter stare at him curiously then shrug as he stood and smiled, patting him on the shoulder.

"I don't normally take things from gangsters but they were just going to destroy it..."

Peter was making excuses, walking towards the door as Neal followed still holding onto the small tie bar lovingly.

"Destroy such a masterpiece? Blasphemy! Thanks for saving it Peter. Tell El I said hi."

The agent nodded back at him with few words as he left, Neal alone now as he closed the door and continued to glance at the pretty gold pin. He went to the mirror by his bed, holding the tie bar up with a blue green tie nearby, an expensive silk one from Byron's collection. It was a beautiful piece, distracting one's eye away from the slight scarring at his neck. Still he needed to wear it with an actual tie to be sure how well it fit with his wardrobe as he put it on and took another look.

"Perfect..."

It was a match to his already growing collection of tie paraphernalia but this one was special. A trophy of sorts. He noticed some writing on the edge, small but hidden well into the design. It looked familiar as he thought back to the brand on the journal.

_Master must like you if he gave you that one... but then, he's no longer my master... Master._

**(The End)**

**Author's Note:** _So... did you guess that was how it would end? BWAHAHAHAHA! Surprise! Thanks for reading!_


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